


Forever Younger, Growing Older

by baeconandeggs, ColorMeB



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: BAE2017, M/M, Praise, legal!agegap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 13:03:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11059548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorMeB/pseuds/ColorMeB
Summary: Baekhyun is Prince Charming, except he supposes he's the one being swept off his feet.





	Forever Younger, Growing Older

**Author's Note:**

> Author: anonymous  
> Prompt#:265  
> Title: Forever Younger, Growing Older  
> Word Count: 20,010  
> Side Pairing(s): divorced!baekyeon  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Warning(s):praise!kink, begging, age gap  
> Disclaimer: The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Author's Note: Alternatively: Jongdae is the crass best friend that loves to meddle. Sehun is the fairy godmother advice-bearer. Baekhyun doesn't care for much, but he ends up caring a lot for Chanyeol. To my prompter–I'm sorry if I couldn't do your prompt justice! This fic basically turned into an amalgam of random, cute scenes, and I hope it's to your satisfaction, because I loved the prompt. To my readers–I hope you don't feel lost with this fic. I suppose I'm a bit out of practice with prompts like this, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Thank you for reading!

“I’m sorry, come again?”

“You’re just taunting me now, aren’t you?”

“I’m just having a hard time believing the bullshit that just spewed from your mouth.”

“Dae.”

“Sorry. Carry on. You’re heartbroken, penniless, and on the verge of freezing to death–continue.”

 

 

Baekhyun sighs deeply, feeling a splitting headache coming on, and he briefly wonders why he even phoned Jongdae to begin with–he’s hardly ever helpful in these kinds of situations.

 

 

He figures this is a new low for him, but he also figures this isn’t the last of incredible disappointments in his life. Baekhyun rubs his hands against his arms with little hopes of warming up, cursing his own foolishness because he stumbled into the perpetually ice-cold hallways clad in just a thin t-shirt.

 

 

It used to be much simpler, before Taeyeon took up a new job and came back in the late hours of the night, constantly irritable and prone to isolation. It used to be much simpler back in college, where their weekends consisted of study dates, coffee runs, and stolen kisses. Or maybe, things were at their simplest in Baekhyun’s freshman year, when in a desperate attempt to escape boredom, he struck up conversation with the blonde girl next to him.

 

 

She was his closest friend before she asked him out, and she was there to experience the aftermath of all of his nightly escapades and mortifying, youth-driven mistakes, yet still loved him dearly. He wants to say that it was euphoric before it turned sour, but the vivacity of tonight’s memories far overshadows the sweetness of yesterday’s kisses. Taeyeon is a beauty in every sense of the word–but Baekhyun can’t pinpoint where it went wrong.

 

 

“Hey, while you’re on the phone, I’ve gotta ask you something.” Jongdae says suddenly.  
“The answer is no.” Baekhyun is exhausted. The night is young, but he feels as though every breath he blows through the wind could very well be his last.  
“Well….anyway, I have this nephew. He’s in need of a place to stay and you’re moving out anyway. What do you say?”  
“Absolutely not!” Baekhyun scoffs. “First of all, I’m hurting and you don’t take a moment to even console me.”  
“Oh, this again,” Jongdae drawls. “We’ve been talking about your divorce long before Taeyeon even brought it up to you, don’t lie, you oversensitive arse. You don’t seem heartbroken so much as you feel annoyed about having papers to sign.”  
“Fair point. So what do you take me for, a babysitter or something?” Baekhyun scowls.  
“Yes. Well, kind of. No, not really. He’s a college student.”  
“I...don’t know what to say.”  
“Other than yes, what choice do you have?”  
“Other than you’re hiding something from me, you stupid fuck.” Baekhyun remarks.

 

 

A sigh comes from the other side of the line. “After ten years of friendship, this is the kind of trust I receive from you? I really deserve better, Byun Baekhyun. It’s decided–I’m promoting Minseok to best friend status.”

  
“God forbid you actually have friends other than me. And when was the last time you were ever associated with the word ‘promotion’?” He quips.

  
“Oh, fuck off.” Baekhyun grins because he can practically hear Jongdae scowl from the end of the line and it’s deeply satisfying.  
Jongdae is about to reply when he perks up at the sound of the door lock being jostled. He clumsily stands up and swivels around. Clutching the phone tightly in his hands, Baekhyun walks up to the door and hesitantly places his hand on the doorknob.

  
“Listen...I gotta call you back.” Baekhyun speaks into the phone cautiously, wanting to avoid confrontation in case Taeyeon can hear from inside.

“Baek, I-”

“Jongdae.” He counters firmly. Jongdae sighs.

  
“At least meet me in 2 hours if you can so we can talk about it. Outside Amber’s?”

  
“You’re...nicer today.” Under normal circumstances, Jongdae would have absolutely said something idiotic to rile him up even more.  
“The real Kim Jongdae’s on a ten minute break and my patience is limited, Baek. Don’t stand me up.”  
Baekhyun laughs lightly, comforted by his signature comedic touch. “Ok.” He wants to politely decline. Although touched by Jongdae’s sudden sympathy, he simply doesn’t have the patience to banter with anyone at the moment. But, a little coffee never hurt anybody, so he agrees.

______

“You know, when I asked you to spill, I didn’t mean for you to take it literally.”  
Jongdae looks in amusement as Baekhyun hisses, hot coffee seeping into his jeans. He scrambled to grab a dozen napkins to lessen the pain from the scalding liquid and grunts in annoyance. Jongdae eyes his best friend warily, taking in the full image of disheveled hair, skin flushed a salmon pink from the cold, and a permanent scowl fixed on his otherwise handsome features. He waits for Baekhyun to clean up and Amber to refill his coffee before speaking.

“To be completely honest, I came here to discuss the deal.” He says monotonously.  
Baekhyun looks at him, stunned. “I thought we came here to discuss my divorce.” He exclaims.  
“Don’t be so self centered, Baek,” Jongdae teases, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Talking about another woman would rightly ruin our coffee date.”

  
“What–”

  
“But you know,” Jongdae interrupts, sipping his coffee in-between sentences. “Thank god you don’t have children. That’d make it tons more difficult to settle. Not that we don’t know who’d receive full custody.”  
“I-”  
“ _And_ the house.”  
“I’m currently _paying,_ for the house.” Baekhyun rolls his eyes.  
“You also paid for the wedding. Seems like that’s gone to shit now too, hasn’t it?”  
Jongdae is an idiot, but Baekhyun doesn’t know to refute that one. He clears his throat and nods meekly.

“You could totally see less of me if you help me out my nephew.” Jongdae grins. “A man’s promise is all he’s worth. And I promise, babycakes.”  
Baekhyun grunts, uninterested. “A man’s apt to promise is apt to forget too.”  
“I speak up to an 8th grade level, Baek. Translate, please?  
“It means that you’re a flaky shithead.”  
“I can’t argue that. But I really promise with this one! Say yes and I’m gone.” Jongdae places his hand over his heart, as though a promise from Kim Jongdae holds any importance at all. Baekhyun loves the man, but he can be a damn prick sometimes.

 

“In about a week’s time, I’m going to be homeless.” Baekhyun mulls over this out loud, choosing to ignore Jongdae’s insistent requests.  
“Shit.”  
“Can she even afford to pay rent? Why do _you_ have to move out?” Jongdae sighs in dramatic exasperation, flinging his arms about. Baekhyun shrugs, gesturing to Jongdae’s cup.

 

“Can you even afford the cup of coffee I covered you for?”

 

A pause. “Hey, don’t stray from the topic and expose me. But look,” Jongdae leans forward, distinctly more serious compared to the nearly ridiculous banter that’s been ongoing for minutes now.

 

“You need to stop being so caught up in a divorce you literally don’t givr a shit about..”

 

“Well, I care about her…” he argues. “I feel bad, anyway.”

 

“What about me,” Jongdae interjects. “Have you thought about how I feel? Am I supposed to watch you slumming it on the streets, or God forbid–living in my house, then?” He wails, catching the attention of other diners.

“Oh, right, I forgot to discuss this with the third party in my relationship,” Baekhyun sneers. “Come on. We’ve been here for too long anyway.”

He promptly sits up, tucking a few dollar bills into the check folder. Nodding to Amber, Baekhyun drags himself out of the homely cafe with his rowdy best friend in tow.

 

Baekhyun shivers, sidling closer to Jongdae in hopes of sharing body heat. The transition to autumn has been uncharacteristically abrupt as of late, leaving Baekhyun unprepared for the sudden breeze.  
“You going back to work tomorrow?” Baekhyun asks. He doesn’t want to part with him just yet, dreading the inevitability of going back to a home that is no longer his. Sure, his conversations with his friend are usually exchanged in the form of mutual insults, but it’s a dynamic unique to only the two of them; at the end of the day, Jongdae will always be there for him, and vice versa.

 

Jongdae shrugs. “Yeah. Accounting kind of sucks, but a man’s gotta make a living, you know. Not everyone can magically climb their way to a managerial position at a multi-million dollar company. It’s practically _unheard_ of.” Baekhyun picks up on the playfulness of his tone and detaches himself from his half embrace, quirking an eyebrow.  
“Are you implying something?”

  
“Yes.”

  
Baekhyun scoffs, glaring at his friend with an intensity that only presents itself with Jongdae’s tireless accusations about his integrity.  
“You’re one to talk! Didn’t you literally trick the profs into letting you graduate on time?”  
“That was seven years ago, and I did _not_.” Jongdae sniffles defensively. “It was a smear to my name. And you didn’t even deny what I said.”  
“I’m no liar, Kim Jongdae.” Baekhyun throws his head back, laughing. “I have not an ounce of shame left.”  
Jongdae nods in agreement. “A true booty ho to the fullest extent.”

A few moments of mindless conversation stretch by before Jongdae speaks, interrupting Baekhyun’s racing thoughts.

 

“You should really head back home.” Baekhyun can’t possibly argue when he’s sure his phone is blowing up with passive aggressive texts from his wife. He should have been home ages ago. It could be because he suddenly feels put off by the aspect of living alone, but Baekhyun circles back to the topic Jongdae’s been fixated on the entire night.

  
“You know, about the whole babysitting thing…”  
Jongdae looks up in surprise. “You serious?”

  
“Yeah.” He manages a weak smile. “You have a nightmare of a boss and a generally shitty life, so I figured I could help for a month or two. You said it yourself–I won’t have to do too much.”

  
“You’ve always been too nice. I don’t know what to say.” Jongdae clutches his chest and wipes away a tear dramatically.  
“Other than why you can’t police your own damn family? No idea. But I’m willing to do it if it means you’ll be able to focus on attaining your otherwise impossible promotion.”

  
“Well then,” Jongdae immediately scowls and doesn’t hesitate to retaliate. “You can finally be the dad you never got to be.”  
“Hey!” Baekhyun protests, voice muffled as Jongdae unravels his wool scarf to wrap it around Baekhyun’s neck. He wordlessly snuggles deeper in its comforting warmth.

  
“You know, now that Taeyeon literally wants nothing to do with your crusty ass anymore–”

  
“You could have stopped at the thank you.” Baekhyun scoffs, adjusting the scarf to cover more of his chest.

  
“Thanks, Baek. But, hey. All jokes aside, are you sure you’re going to be ok?” His voice softens, exhibiting a rare yet much appreciated side of Jongdae. Baekhyun resists the urge to smile.

  
Instead, he shrugs, exclaiming, “I’ve been finding ways out of shitty situations for years now. Give me a little more credit, won’t you?”

______

Baekhyun doesn’t believe that love makes the world turn ‘round. He doesn’t believe the old tale of lovers who stay utterly devoted to each other through the unfortunate trials of time. He believes in hard work–that a relationship only flourishes for as long as both parties are willing. And it seems that neither Baekhyun nor Taeyeon are up for the fight.

“It’s not that I don’t love you.” There it is. She speaks with determination, pitiful when matched against Baekhyun’s helplessness–turned–apathy, as though the fire in her gaze were enough to get him to care.  
It’s not enough.  
“I know you do.”  
“I really did love you.”  
“I know. I love you too.” He pauses.  
“I don’t really know what to say, honestly.”

“This just isn’t working anymore.” Baekhyun groans, slumping in his chair. “We no longer need one concrete reason, Tae. It’s everything. You know this, I know this, hell-even Jongdae knows this! And Jongdae only ever half listens to what I have to say. I need someone who isn’t going to throw the first hard edged object in her hand out the window when she’s upset. Why are we still debating this?” His words are abrasive, but perhaps that’s what the pair needs to hear. The divorce had been a bitter pill sitting at the tip of his tongue for ages, and he’s frankly fed up with its constant delay. If not now, when?

 

Taeyeon straightens up, fidgeting with her hands before dropping them in exasperation.  
She licks her lips, opting to stay silent for a few moments upon hearing Baekhyun voice his emotions for the first time in months. She looks as stunning as ever, but troubled. Baekhyun wonders once more if she knows that she could still take anyone’s breath away. There’s simply no use wasting it with him.

 

“You’re right.”  
Baekhyun pauses for a moment to look at her. Taeyeon’s hair, a muddy honey blonde now, stands up in every which way and sticks to the areas of her face where her tears haven’t dried.  
“I just think that we both know how long overdue this was, what with everything that happened.” He says softly.  
Taeyeon hums in agreement, level headed as she reaches across the kitchen island to pour herself a glass of wine. Baekhyun declines her silent offer to pour him one as well. “You were always the realist, weren’t you?”

 

Baekhyun snorts, disagreeing. “Uhm, I don’t know if you were there during my last three years of college, but I almost flunked precisely for the very opposite reason.”  
Taeyeon laughs tiredly, shoulders relaxing as she takes a seat next to Baekhyun.

 

“I remember. I just don’t know. I feel like you’re not the guy I fell in love with all those years ago. Or even three years ago.” The blatant, unfiltered truth hurts less than Baekhyun had anticipated. In fact, it feels liberating in a way– to open a door he had kept shut and locked for so long.  
“I’m not.”

 

“And I get it; everyone changes with time. But I just feel like we can’t connect at all. And the biggest reason is that I don’t feel like trying anymore, either.”  
“Agreed.” Baekhyun clears his throat, resting his eyes to nurse the throbbing pain in the back of his head. He’s so tired.

 

“You can stay here for as long as you need to, you know. I’m okay with it.” Taeyeon speaks elegantly, always with concern and sincerity minced with a type of empathy that Baekhyun can’t match up to. Perhaps this is also why they fell out. Taeyeon’s always been more of a socially acute person, constantly angered by Baekhyun's lackthereof.

 

Half past midnight might have been considered an early bedtime a decade ago, but Baekhyun finds it hard to keep up with the conversation. A heavy feeling washes over his body and he utilizes the last of his energy to squeeze Taeyeon’s hand. “Tired.” he mumbles.  
“I know.” Taeyeon sets down her glass and sits up, looking at Baekhyun from above his still frame.  
“I honestly don’t know how we survived the past couple of months.” he sighs. His eyelids flutter closed, vision subject only to the soft glint of Taeyeon’s hair.  
“We should have done it sooner.” She agrees.  
“It could have been worse. I mean, could you imagine what it’d be like if we had kids? God.”  
“You should really shut up now.”

_______

 

 

Baekhyun knows that keeping a promise is important. But, like the vows he spent months drafting before his wedding, Baekhyun's promises only go as far the situation allows for.

Jongdae is also both a shitty friend and an excellent liar.

“You,” he points at Jongdae, “are a dickhead.”  
Jongdae looks up, chewing thoughtfully on his sandwich–the one he isn't able to eat in the comfort of his office because Baekhyun had physically dragged him outside the office building, ruining his pressed collar and everything.  
“I'm not going to sit here and argue with the truth, babycakes.” Jongdae says, spitting his food everywhere. Baekhyun shoves his face away from his suit, scowling. Jongdae’s always had shit manners.

  
“You told me he only needed to stay for a month or two,” Baekhyun exclaims, gestures wildly in the air, “This is not what I offered to do. What, I’m going to be hosting my fucking house to him for a year? I’m not his–his–”  
“Babysitter?” Jongdae suggests casually.

  
“He’s 20.” Baekhyun laments, looking up if only to ask the higher power whether or not he truly deserves such a headache during what should be the prime years of his life. “He’s not a baby.”

“You’ll almost _never_ have to see him. He’s lame anyway and only stays in his room.” Jongdae sing-songs, as though this were supposed to be an infomercial offer Baekhyun _just can’t refuse_.  
“I refuse this. I refuse! You can’t make me do this.” Baekhyun protests, wrinkling his nose. “You _cannot_ ask me to house a fraternity-bound packrat for an entire year.”

_______

 

“I work over here.” Baekhyun gestures to the kitchen island, hardly sparing a glance at the taller man behind him–although, it’s a challenge to enforce that. When Chanyeol first grinned at him from the front door, luggage in tow and jacket casually slung over his shoulder, Baekhyun felt more shocked into speechlessness rather than irritation. Chanyeol oozes a sort of boyish charm, and in conjunction with his staggering height and impressively confident voice, the brunet can’t help feeling a bit self conscious. If Baekhyun were anybody else, he would have felt an intense desire to befriend the kid, if only out of mutual admiration. It’s hard to believe he’s the nephew of Kim Jongdae, resident demon.

 

“No offense, but can your feet even touch the ground from there?” Chanyeol laughs, nodding toward the high bar stools.  
Never mind. Baekhyun scowls, the mood soured by his blatant distaste for height comments, especially when the man in question is an absolute giant and is speaking from an absolutely unfair perspective. He swiftly turns around.  
“It’s not my fault that you’re an overgrown giant,” he huffs. “The room on the far right is yours. Don’t enter the far left without my permission. I’m going to be there when I’m in the kitchen, got it? You step one foot in without knocking and I’ll kill you.”  
Chanyeol nods dutifully. He then leaves him to explore the area and retreats to his workspace, rapid-fire typing drowned out by Chanyeol’s _shitty_ rock music.

 

_________

 

“Hey, Baekhyun?”  
“What, so honorifics just don't exist anymore?”  
“Mhm. You know–”  
“Please don’t tell me.” Baekhyun knows enough about Chanyeol to not be in the mood for one of his stupid comments.  
“You’re pretty cute, like total puppy vibes, you know? But you’re also small. And kind of angry. It’s kind of adorable.”  
“E-excuse me?” Baekhyun stutters.  
“Did I miscalculate what would make you crack a smile or are you just like, perpetually angry or something?” Chanyeol shrugs.  
“Whatever. I noticed you had like, three dozen Disney movies on your shelf so I’ll be watching one. Join me if you want.”

Baekhyun snaps out of his initial confusion and demands that Chanyeol put every DVD back in its original spot, color-coordinated and all. Chanyeol waves flippantly, agreeing. Baekhyun (totally against his will) joins him not ten minutes later, keeping as much distance as possible as he loses himself in the vibrant world of _The Little Mermaid_.

 

________

The apartment is never quiet after Chanyeol moves in, despite him living almost exclusively in his room.

It’s well past midnight when Baekhyun comes back from work. His back aches and he’s in dire need of some food, so he kicks off his shoes haphazardly and shuffles to the kitchen. The fridge is virtually empty, save for a jug of orange juice and what looks like a bundle of lemons. Baekhyun doesn’t know what he was expecting.

“You know, you have really shitty eating habits.” Baekhyun yelps and jumps around, slamming the fridge door shut in his moment of shock. He winces, feeling a muscle tense up in his back. “Would it kill you to lurk a little less?” Baekhyun mutters, dejectedly taking a seat.  
“Your cupboards are filled with ramen and your fridge has like, six lemons or something.” his voice is muffled, yet amused. He continues. “Who needs that many lemons when there’s literally nothing else in the fridge? What were you thinking?”  
Chanyeol steps out of the shadows. He’s eating a bowl of something, which baffles Baekhyun; where the hell did he get that from? Baekhyun hasn’t gone grocery shopping in weeks.

  
Chanyeol must have been studying to be up so late at night; his normally well kept hair is mussed and there are hard indentations running down the side of his forearms. But with a pair of low riding sweatpants and a black tee, Baekhyun feels irritated that the kid can manage to look half decent even when it’s nearing 3am.  
“Where you been?” He asks over a mouth full of food.

  
 “Work.”

  
“Ah. What do you do again?” As if the floors and tables aren't drowning under contracts and re-drafted thumbnail designs. Chanyeol’s been living in his own world for the past three weeks, rushing to his room the second he gets home from classes or work. In all fairness, Baekhyun had pushed his friendly advances away within the first week, likely discouraging Chanyeol’s desire to get to know his glorified babysitter. Regardless, he’s still as intrusive and talkative as ever.

 

“I dunno. I manage things, sometimes.” he responds tiredly.

  
“Must be tough.”

  
Baekhyun shrugs. “College might be worse.” he gestures to Chanyeol’s sleepy form.  
He makes a face, clearly disagreeing.

  
“Why the face? What, it’s a walk in the park for you?” Baekhyun inquires teasingly.  
“I just don’t do much.” He responds. “You know it’s an issue when fairytale flicks have become the highlight of my week.  
“Fairytales are the highlight of my life, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun, in all of his exhaustion, still manages to be dramatic as ever. “And you major in…?”

  
“Music theory. It’s fun, but I guess I’m just looking for something to fill up my spare time.” Baekhyun chuckles, remembering his own college days. He had been nothing more than a party kid at heart, exchanging his top graduation ranking for booze and loud music. In retrospect, he was probably a fucking idiot who should have taken school more seriously. But in practice, he’s still doing rather well financially, so he’s not complaining. Chanyeol seems a bit different–more mild, perhaps.

He ponders their differences over a bottle of water, and it’s not until a few seconds after he notices Chanyeol standing by his side that he sees a steaming bowl of rice and meat in front of him. “Uh…” he stutters, confused.

  
"You had a bag of rice left abandoned somewhere underneath all of that ramen and I bought some meat from the store. You really need some produce in your life, by the way.” He grabs the bottle of water and takes a sip from it. Baekhyun is too surprised to protest.

  
“I can’t cook, anyway, so it doesn’t matter.” He responds, eagerly digging into the meal and promptly forgetting his manners in the process. If Chanyeol minds, he doesn’t note it.  
“I can. I’ll teach you, if you want.”

________

Baekhyun feels himself growing fond of his roommate’s presence. It’s not only the fact that he has someone to share the chores with, but he always has something to look forward to at the end of the day–whether it be seeing a platter of hand-baked goods or Chanyeol himself, browsing through his extensive movie collection, asking for him to choose between a toss-up of Tiana or Mulan.

_______

Baekhyun walks into Chanyeol’s room one day during an afternoon study session. He can’t hear Baekhyun due to the nail-against-chalkboard screeches coming from his earphones, but Baekhyun taps him on the shoulder regardless.

Chanyeol turns around, yanking out his earbuds and smiles at Baekhyun. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“You said you majored in music theory.” Baekhyun cocks his head, gesturing to the pile of books stacked next to the dimly lit desk and the loose leaf sheets with unfamiliar terminology neatly arranged in piles. “What’s this?”  
“Comp-sci, but I didn’t think you’d be interested.” Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. “Is that why you came in? To question me?”  
He shakes his head. “I was wondering what pizza toppings you liked. I’m ordering.”

  
Baekhyun feels almost guilty for not being friendlier to the kid when all he’s done is be courteous and helpful (albeit a little bit clueless)–and according to Baekhyun, pizza is always the best means of apology.  
He smiles handsomely, leaning back in his chair. “Pineapples?”

  
Baekhyun’s face falls.

  
“What betrayal.” He gags, kicking the chair. “Forget I said anything. You’re disgusting.”  
“How about spinach?”

  
“Oh my god. Chanyeol, why.”

  
“They deserve more _love,_ Baekhyun. It breaks my heart to see them neglected like this.”

 

 

Baekhyun ends up ordering pepperoni and half pineapple. No spinach.

 

 

 _Baekhyun:_ jongdae get me kyungsoo’s number for the interview btw you literally did not tell me anything about this kid  
_resident asshole:_ im sorry mr antisocial but u live with him wtf just talk to him??  
_Baekhyun:_ its awkward now fuck we have like silent movie nights now i cant ive ignored him for too long prior to this  
_resident asshole:_ r u surprised lmao?? classic byun behavior to me  
_Baekhyun:_ fuCK you it doesn't matter

Except, it does matter. Baekhyun finds himself paying more attention to his now well-acquainted roommate whenever he has a chance, and he's built quite a profile of him: Park Chanyeol is quite an impressive student with a sharp wit to match. He spends a large portion of his time in his room, but only a small portion of it actually studying.

  
Most of the time, he’s working in a virtual music studio composing songs out of leisure, or strumming absently on his guitar. In the span of a month, Baekhyun has already seen him change his hair color from brown to black to a vibrant red (he very much prefers the red, not that it matters much to Chanyeol’s greater decision–and his small bald patch.)

  
He’s obsessed with making sure the pair actually eats at least one healthy, balanced meal together, and ushers Baekhyun to the grocery store every week, excitedly explaining the benefits of different leafy greens and produce that Baekhyun has rarely seen in his adult life–the attentiveness is borderline ridiculous, considering Baekhyun usually eats absolute shit 20 hours a day with little repercussion to his frame. Baekhyun graciously inhales anything that Chanyeol cooks anyway, because his former experience at his mother’s cafe has rendered him nearly professional, and Baekhyun hasn’t had a decent meal in years.

 

Chanyeol _also_ regrettably has shitty taste in prioritizing the classics. He prefers Cinderella over Baekhyun’s actual daughter, Mulan, and it absolutely knocks him down a few notches in terms of compatibility. Platonic compatibility, of course.

 

Baekhyun learns a little bit about himself in the process as well; he can't cook for shit, and Chanyeol's quickly come to accept it, allowing Baekhyun to stand by the sidelines while he works magic in the kitchen.

He thinks he knows him pretty well by now. Park Chanyeol: Musician–programmer. Food extraordinaire. Kind of stupid, but also too kind for his own good. Bakes pecan tarts that would make Paula Deen cry. He supposes he enjoys getting to know Chanyeol, and thinks that if he continues to unearth such interesting details about his roommate, he should daresay that he’s become almost friendly with him at this point.

________

 

The first time they properly hang out, Chanyeol’s aced his finals and wants to make the most out of his freedom. Baekhyun is juggling divorce papers, tense family meetings, and overtime for his upcoming launch–and feels less inclined to do so.

 

“Come on, old man. It’s time to get out of the house.” Chanyeol grunts, comically trying to lift Baekhyun from his seat. Baekhyun has noticed in the past few days that Chanyeol seems to have no sense of personal space, and will freely invade Baekhyun’s at all times. He doesn’t have the heart to push him away.  
“Ironic, coming from the guy who hasn’t seen the light of day since his last lecture.” Baekhyun mumbles.  
Chanyeol hums, taking a sip from Baekhyun’s beer can (which he absolutely does not condone on any other day that he’s not swamped with work.)

 

“What else is new, then?” Hegrins. Baekhyun scoffs, fingers still flying over the keyboard, asking Jongdae what could be considered concerning questions, like, _“if I were to be critically injured tomorrow–like hospitalized, do you think Taeyeon would still ask for these papers,”_ to which Jongdae responds, _“if you don't fill them out right now she's going to be the reason you're hospitalized you dick.”_

 

Chanyeol, dissatisfied with the lack of attention, hums while slipping on his jacket. “I’m heading out, then.”  
“Mhm.” Baekhyun’s eyes are glossing over the screen.  
“I’ll probably grab some ice cream.”  
“Have fun.”  
“Maybe shop around a bit. It’s sure been a _long_ time since I’ve gone out.”  
“Don’t do anything that would require me to bail you out. I’m broke.”

 

Chanyeol sighs.

 

“I’m trying to do you a favor by inviting you to take a breather and walk outside. I’m not taking no for an answer.” He exclaims, slipping on his shoes and holding one of his extra jackets out for Baekhyun.  
He hesitates, fingers resting on his keyboard, and scoffs upon hearing Chanyeol slightly raise his voice. “Don’t use that tone with me.” He berates half-heartedly. Chanyeol laughs.

  
“Okay, Baekhyun. Just step out for a minute with me, yeah?” The attention is rather flattering, and Baekhyun pauses for a moment before deciding that he deserves a break. He slips out of his chair, adjusting the loose button down that hangs sloppily around his neck. (He needs to make a habit of changing out of his clothes after he gets home. This is precisely why he runs out of crisp shirts to wear, and probably another reason as to why Taeyeon kind of hates him.)

“Fine,” he says, relenting. “But you’re paying for ice cream.”

 

 

Baekhyun looks quite nice in Chanyeol’s jacket. It dwarfs the slope of his shoulders and tapers down to slightly baggy sleeves, just how he likes it. He makes a mental note to steal Chanyeol’s clothes more often. “Hey. Where do you buy your clothes?”  
“Why, do you actually enjoy wearing normal people clothes?”  
“Absolutely not. I’m merely curious as to why you dress like a male teenybopper.”  
Chanyeol laughs and lightly shoves him in response. Baekhyun rolls his eyes and refrains from commenting on his overly casual tendencies.  
  
He walks down the streets, happily eating his strawberry ice cream like a child rightfully would. The pair keep true to their words and shop around the area, occasionally slipping into stores that catches Baekhyun’s eye. Balking at the prices aside, Baekhyun is soon nose deep in new clothes and only bothers to utter a peep to Chanyeol once he’s accumulated a handful to try on.  
  
“Clear the entire store, won’t you?” Chanyeol grunts in amusement, following Baekhyun around the store anyway.   


 

______

 

“What do you think? Baekhyun steps out and stands in front of Chanyeol. He purses his lips, scrutinizing the distressed fabric and bold graphics.  
“I can’t believe how good you make that God-awful shirt look. I like it on you, but what the fuck, Baek.”  
“Oh, I’m totally getting it.” Baekhyun grins.

 

“How about this?”  
“That’s..nice.” Nice. More than nice. Chanyeol nods approvingly. Baekhyun looks striking in black, and the top he’s picked out is no exception. Baekhyun laughs, observing his frame in the mirror. “What can I say? I pull off everything. I should just be a model, honestly.”  
“How do you do that when you’re like, 4 feet tall?”

 

On the way home, Baekhyun stays blanketed in a comfortable silence, perking up only when he passes by a familiar sight.  
“Oh, orchids. I love these.” Baekhyun bows to the shopkeeper and receives permission to pick them up. He puts them up to his face, eyes lighting up at the fragrant scent. Chanyeol stands next to him and asks, “You like these?”  
“I guess.”

  
“...You guess?”

  
Baekhyun laughs lightly, trying to conceal the sudden awkwardness that’s filled the atmosphere. “Taeyeon's bouquet looked just like this.”  
Chanyeol whistles.

“Oh. That’s her name?” Chanyeol has been filled in on the nitty gritty of Baekhyun’s marriage, thanks to a rather careless, drunken night of slurred rants and existential crises. They don’t bring it up.

 

“Yeah. I recommended them to her because I loved orchids growing up.” Baekhyun sets the bouquet down.  
“Why though?” Chanyeol asks, sensing the need to upkeep conversation lest they walk the next 3 blocks in absolute silence.  
“Dunno. They just stuck with me throughout my childhood, I guess. My mom used to give me orchids for special occasions–piano recitals, graduation, birthdays, whatever. The white ones mean elegance, and the orange ones, pride.” Chanyeol nods thoughtfully, intrigued by the detail. “I really like them. I–I thought it was really a accurate definition of who I was. Or who she had hoped I would become. They're also really pretty. They smell nice? I really like flowers.” Word vomit is Baekhyun's specialty, apparently. 

  
“Well, at least you’ve got the proud part down.” Chanyeol teases. Baekhyun scoffs and breaks away from his side, speeding up so Chanyeol has to scramble to catch up with him.  
“Hey!”

________

Baekhyun has a dilemma.

 

It seems as though he can’t seem to stop thinking about his freakishly tall roommate. It starts, as all things do, with Baekhyun struggling to reach something from the top shelf. He knows Chanyeol might leave his room any minute now, and rushes to find a chair to stand on before that happens and he can be questioned about his actions. Before he can contemplate throwing away his dignity and crawling onto the tiled counter, a hand extends behind him and easily grabs the book. Baekhyun stumbles back, crashing into Chanyeol.

 

“Ah-!” Chanyeol grunts, trying to regain his balance and blatantly ignoring Baekhyun struggling to get the notebook _out_ of his hands.  
“What’s this?” He raises an eyebrow, fingers grasping the spine and observing the worn, leather cover. Baekhyun huffs, “Nothing. Give it back.” Successive attempts to pluck it out of his hands fall in vain because Chanyeol’s a good head taller than him.

  
“Give it back, you fucking beanstalk.”

  
“Why? Looks pretty tame to me.” Baekhyun frantically shakes his head, leaning against the counter. “Please, Chanyeol. Give it back.” He extends his hand.

  
“I-alright, Baek,” he says, perplexed upon noticing Baekhyun’s frazzled reaction. He returns the notebook, but not without pressing the issue. “You can tell me anything you know,” he says, curiosity getting the better of his subtlety. “It’s not like we have any mutual friends, anyway.” Baekhyun scoffs. “I _especially_ wouldn’t trust you with any secrets when you can tell all of them to your little musician friends.”

“What...does that have anything to do with it?”

Baekhyun utters a sharp curse. Chanyeol jumps around to face Baekhyun eagerly. “Ah! Are they songs? Do you compose songs?” Baekhyun laughs sharply. “Ha. N-no.” He looks away, debating in a split second if it’s really worth the tireless interrogation. If there’s one additional thing he’s learned about Chanyeol in the past couple of months, it’s that he’s persistent. He sighs, mindlessly thumbing the pages. “I used to.”

  
“Used to….?”

  
“Write songs.” he winces. “Kind of. I was bad.” He was alright, actually, if there’s one thing he deserves to be confident about. But it's the last thing he wants to bring up.  
Chanyeol nods enthusiastically. “That’s so cool. Did you sing?” He continues to ask Baekhyun questions even as he makes his way to his bedroom, where Chanyeol is strictly forbidden to enter without asking for permission. Baekhyun considers it a safe space, away from his roommate's innocent, yet constant questioning.  
“Yes. I _did._ ” Baekhyun looks at him pointedly as his hands rest on the door handle. Chanyeol understands the unspoken demand.

“Yes sir,” he responds, voice laced with mirth. “I’m going out anyway.” Baekhyun’s head perks up; he hasn’t heard of Chanyeol leaving the house for anything other than his night classes. Today’s a Saturday, so there’s probable reason even for Chanyeol to go out. Baekhyun observes Chanyeol a bit more closely and notices that he’s dressed up in a black leather jacket and a fitting pair of skinnies, as opposed to his usual t-shirt and jeans. He’s styled his hair too, vibrant comma-shaped bangs framing his face. Baekhyun shifts, crossing his arms.

“If you’re not going out to get shitfaced like any other college student on a Saturday night, I’m uninterested.”

“What an _awful_ influence you are, really.” Chanyeol snorts. “I’m going out to celebrate a friend’s 21st.”

“What, to play Scrabble with your underaged self?” Baekhyun quips, slight curiosity masked by a teasing tone. He doesn’t take Chanyeol to be someone who bends the rules to have fun. He’s always been so rigid and predictable anyway.

“Not quite, no. But I wouldn’t want to have you all worried about me.” Chanyeol snickers, shuffling to the door. “Have fun writing! Show those hit singles to me one day, will you?” He yells from the entrance.  
“Over my dead body!” Baekhyun shouts over the sound of the door slamming shut.

Baekhyun stands by the bedroom door for a moment after Chanyeol leaves the apartment. He doesn’t expect to feel a slight, uncomfortable tug in his stomach upon hearing the door slam shut. It’s too quiet. He puts on an old classic to wash away the buzzing silence, plopping on the sofa with a pen in hand as he hums light melodies to accompany his sudden burst of inspiration. It’s much more lighthearted and bubbly than his previous pieces, and he wonders what’s brought along such a change. Baekhyun merely smiles, scratching in another stream of ideas.

 

 

 _Baekhyun:_ i feel weird  
_resident asshole:_ like “i have a stomachache” weird or “im horny” weird cuz drink tea for the first one but dude the second one is ur problem  
_Baekhyun:_ : ohmygod SHUT UP its just too quiet here do u wanna get a drink  
_resident asshole:_ can’t. going on a date with my wonderful, amazing, beautiful, stunning, happy, not-divorced woman. not to rub salt in ur wound or anything. lmao.  
_Baekhyun:_ ur an ass, we're over.  
_resident asshole:_ hey i was kidding!! If u want i can hook u up u know ive always got ur back  
_Baekhyun:_ never mind fuck just go bed your girlfriend or something good night

 

 

For the next few hours, Baekhyun convinces himself that his mindless preoccupations are born solely out of boredom. He’s sent out the divorce papers and has been given the green light to launch in the weeks, giving him all the more reason to tend to his favorite time-consuming tasks–like color coding the bookshelves and rearranging his old CD’s in order of title. He convinces himself he’s not waiting for Chanyeol, because there’s absolutely no reason to do so in the first place. It’s not as though Chanyeol actually needs a babysitter to police his every movement.

 

Well into the night, Baekhyun plops on his bed, exhausted and annoyed with the dull discomfort in his chest. He falls asleep tangled in the covers, wondering if Chanyeol’s going to be back before the sun rises.

 

Baekhyun awakens moments before the sound of a door clicking shut. His ears perk up and he focuses on the distant sound, hearing heavy footsteps make its way to his bedroom–and his heart starts to pound erratically. Doesn’t Chanyeol know better than to enter his bedroom? He closes his eyes and holds his breath when the the door opens, hearing the creak of the hardwood floor groan just in front of his bed. He opens his eyes just a tad, enough to notice Chanyeol pulling the blankets up to Baekhyun’s chin before turning around and gently closing the door.

 

Baekhyun’s eyes shoot open as soon as he’s sure Chanyeol is gone.

________

“Did you sleep well last night? Chanyeol is cooking breakfast by the time Baekhyun rolls out of bed, head throbbing and eyes light-sensitive. He squints and yawns.

  
“Uhm...yes.” he lies, the events of yesterday night still fresh in his mind. “How was the party?”  
“Fun, but I guess I do like staying at home more nowadays.” He shrugs, sliding two eggs onto Baekhyun’s plate. “Over medium, just as you like it.”  
“Ah. Thanks.” He sits down on the island and digs in, chewing slowly.

  
“Were you cold last night?” Chanyeol asks nonchalantly.

  
Baekhyun stutters, “No, why?” He wonders if Chanyeol is going to admit to entering his room at all. Was yesterday night the first time? It’s not as though Baekhyun falls asleep tucked in, anyway. He typically kicks off any blankets by the end of the night, leaving him rather cold in the morning, but he _does_ notice that the habit has been less severe as of late. Baekhyun slowly stops chewing, mulling over this new connection of thoughts.

  
“No reason. It just seemed the thermostat was set a bit lower, is all.”

  
“Okay.” Baekhyun can’t say he’s any less confused or disappointed. “Have fun at school.”

  
“Sure, mom.” Chanyeol teases. “Work hard!”

The door slams shut, leaving Baekhyun to his own devices for the rest of the morning. He wonders if headaches are going to continue to plague his mornings as long as he thinks about _it_.

________

 

 _Baekhyun:_ are you sure this is it  
_resident asshole:_ it’s literally ur old school pls don’t tell me ur dumb enough to get lost  
_Baekhyun:_ im just nervous  
_resident asshole:_ listen all u have to do is give him a couple of half assed answers and he’ll be happy to lick the ground u walk on. idk what ur so nervous about

_____________

 

Kyungsoo is early. It doesn’t take long for Baekhyun to feel familiar in the halls of his own university, where he used to actually reign confidently in the halls (despite his rather lackadaisical approach to school.) He’s met with a boy about his own size, dressed in all black with a folder tucked neatly under his arms. “Byun Baekhyun!” he bows deeply. “What an honor to meet you.”

 

Baekhyun feels awkward with the formality and shrugs it off. “Please, let’s be more casual,” he laughs, “I’m in no place to deserve that kind of respect.” Kyungsoo shakes his head. “Oh, but you are! You’re only one of _the_ most talked about students of Mr. Kim’s class. I mean, everyone who takes a course with him knows who you are.” Baekhyun definitely isn’t expecting that level of praise, especially since it’s been years since his graduation. Kyungsoo leads Baekhyun to a seat near the pavilion, a humble lunch area shrouded by a strong gust of wind and red-hued leaves. It’s not far from where Baekhyun used to spend the majority of his time, and he’s hit with a wave of nostalgia.

 

“Well, I wouldn’t...put it that way.” He replies shyly. Kyungsoo shakes his head. “Nonsense. I’m flattered that you were even willing to go out of your way to speak to me!” Baekhyun nods and refrains from telling him that he literally lives three minutes away.

 

Kyungsoo is obviously a (rather unjustified if Baekhyun is honest with himself) fan of Baekhyun’s previous work, but Baekhyun seems to be the nervous one throughout the course of the interview. Kyungsoo's questions are succinct, whereas Baekhyun rambles. He doesn’t quite emote his feelings, whereas Baekhyun can feel additional creases forming near his eyes with the amount of times he’s scrunched up his face trying to explain himself for the past ten minutes. He feels marginally intimidated by a man even smaller than him, and it’s ridiculous, really.

 

Talking about his work in Mr. Kim’s class is easy enough; it was one of the few courses in which he applied himself, and thus, excelled. Baekhyun feels oddly flattered, but all the more uncomfortable, knowing that one of the few professors who greatly respects him is raving about how _wholesome_ and _polite_ he is to an entirely new graduating class of students. The entire situation is somewhat amusing; if word about that somehow got to Jongdae, the man would have a laughing fit.

“ _And at last I see the light-_ ” Baekhyun perks up upon hearing the familiar tune. He looks around, gazing at a pair of energetic friends belting out the track at the top of their lungs, apparently unaware that there are dozens of students around the pavilion who _are_ judging them.  
“ _And it’s like the sky is new–!_ ”

  
“Chanyeol?” He chokes out, laughing. He’s forgotten just how small the university campus really is–with barely 1,000 under grads enrolled in the Music and Tech school–he should have expected to run into the student here. Baekhyun shakes away the unrelated thought, smiling as Chanyeol clears his throat, walking up to the pair. “Hey Baek!” He greets excitedly.

  
“Nice choice of song,” Baekhyun grins lightly. “But what the hell are you doing singing something made for someone with a voice like, 15 times higher than yours?”  
“I took creative liberty with technique, you jerk. What are you doing here?” He sneaks a glance at Baekhyun’s company.

“Soo?”

  
“Chanyeol!” Kyungsoo exclaims, looking more irked than anything else. Judging from the nickname, Baekhyun assumes they’re rather close, but Kyungsoo looks as though he would Chanyeol be anywhere but in front of him. “Can you leave? You’re interrupting something here.”  
The friend Chanyeol’s walking with previously pipes up. “Kyungsoo looks pretty pissed, Yeol. You better leave before he puts you in a headlock again.” Tall. Nicely dressed. Hair dyed a vibrant, platinum blonde. Baekhyun briefly wonders if all of Chanyeol’s friends are just selfishly attractive.

 

“Just a minute, Sehun.” he looks at Baekhyun, who’s been feeling starkly out of place in a crowd of college aged boys. “What’re you doing here again?”  
“Interview with Do Kyungsoo. He’s a student of a former teacher of mine.” he explains. Chanyeol nods. “Wow. What a coincidence, huh?” He grins. “You busy after this, Soo?”

 

“When am I not?” he mutters organizing the rest of his papers and stuffing them into his clear file folder. “I had to carve out time in my schedule to drop off the little demons at daycare to rush my ass over here before you ruined it, like you literally do with everything.” Kyungsoo shakes his head. “Anyway, are you friends with Mr. Byun or something?”  
“Woah, Mr. Byun. That’s a little too formal, don’t you think, Baek?” he laughs. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, as though in disbelief that anyone could treat Mr. Kim’s prodigy in such an indecent manner. Baekhyun fights back the urge to sigh.

 

“Sehun and I were just about to grab a bite to eat,” Chanyeol nudges the silent man. How about we wait for you two to finish and you can join us, Baek?” Baekhyun nods absently, frowning.  
“You always call me Baek.” It’s supposed to sound a lot more assertive than that, but Baekhyun doesn’t actually care as much as he lets on. It’s quite cute, actually.

  
Chanyeol shrugs. “Baekhyun.” He cheekily corrects himself.  
“When are you ever going to use honorifics with me?” He asks, clearing his throat when he realizes how whiny his tone must sound. “I mean, you should, after all.”

  
“Probably never. We’ll be over there.” Chanyeol chuckles, gesturing to a small area nearby a cluster of water fountains. “Catch us when you’re ready!"  
“Can you leave faster?” Kyungsoo interjects, unamused. “The Disney references got old after your voice cracked.”  
_________

 

Sehun is as kind as a self absorbed brat can get. Really, he’s a younger, better dressed version of Jongdae. Despite the age gap, Baekhyun finds himself bonding with the boy over piping hot coffee and oil-drenched burgers at Amber’s, even going so far as to share his number with him (it's an exchange he’ll probably regret later, but he can deal with that as the issue arises.) Chanyeol sits beside him, leg occasionally knocking against his due to the cramped booth space–but he’s not complaining.

As the afternoon winds down into dusk, the trio are preparing to leave. Baekhyun fishes around for his wallet before being stopped by Chanyeol’s hand, and Baekhyun shakes his head, knowing what’s going to happen. He immediately opens his mouth to protest before the amused man waves him off, saying, “it’s already paid for, so you lost.”

Being the tactless boy he is, Sehun whoops, whereas Baekhyun glares. “Come on. You can’t possibly expect to pay and get away with it.”

Chanyeol shakes his head, chuckling. He ruffles Baekhyun’s hair despite the man’s indignant protests of _“I am so much older than you, what the fuck?”_  
“You can pay me back another time, if that makes you feel better.”

________

Mornings are always hard. This one is a little worse than the rest of them.

 

“Perfect, as always. Want one?” Chanyeol holds out the pan, expression hopeful as he waits for Baekhyun to slide an egg onto his empty plate. Baekhyun shakes his head, chair scraping the wood floor as he stands up slips his jacket over his crisp button down. “No time, sorry.” he responds curtly, grabbing his keys and hurrying out the door before Chanyeol can think to utter a response.

 

It’s been like this for weeks now, and no doubt Chanyeol feels a little blindsided by Baekhyun’s sudden coldness. Of course the initial shock of his self-realization has worn off and morphed into a horribly cruel defense mechanism on Baekhyun’s part.

 

By sheer definition, Baekhyun is no virtuous person; virtue drives men madly to confession, and Baekhyun would rather forget his mistakes than confront them. Baekhyun is self preserving–selfish at times, even. To a man in his position, it’s self-destructive.

 

Nonetheless, he feels guilty.

 

This is the dilemma Baekhyun faces as he notices himself spending an excessive amount of time with his roommate-turned-friend. If it’s not weekly movie nights spent gushing over their favorites, then it’s the breakfast that Chanyeol has made a habit to force Baekhyun to eat. If it’s not conversations in the morning before Baekhyun heads to work and Chanyeol, off to his occasional yet dreaded 8am’s, it’s texts sent scattered throughout the day updating each other on both the important and the trivial _(“I saw someone who looks like literal live-action Flynn–” “Do you want rice or soup tonight?” “Oh my god look at this puppy Yeol I’m going to die–.”)_ Baekhyun subconsciously lingers too closely to Chanyeol while he’s experimenting with new dishes in the late evening, and Chanyeol likes to sidle up right next to Baekhyun while he’s helping hang up the laundry, leaving not a paper-width space between them.

 

They’ve become too comfortable, and Baekhyun frankly has no time nor energy to be so. The second he is able to put a name to the odd feeling that's been building in his chest for weeks, he panics. It's as foreign to him now as it was all those years ago–that painful desire to chase and love–and it’s not something he’s willing to grovel and fight for again.

 

Keeping this in mind justifies Byun Baekhyun doing precisely what Byun Baekhyun does best–he pushes Chanyeol away. Like a one night stand and its morning after, Baekhyun shuts down all forms of unnecessary communication, if only to convince himself that any interaction with Chanyeol truly _is_ unnecessary.

 

“Baekhyun, what the hell are you doing?” The man jolts out of his reverie and nearly knocks over his cold mug of coffee, looking around frantically, and finally settling his focus on a rather irritated woman. The breath she lets out ruffles her blonde bangs just a little bit before she hastily walks over, seating herself across from Baekhyun.  
“Hey, Tae.” he rubs his neck awkwardly, suddenly feeling insecure in his own thoughts. She always seems to know exactly what's on his mind.  
“What were you thinking about so deeply that you couldn’t hear me shout your name from here? What, you got another woman already?” she inquires playfully.

 

“W-What?” Baekhyun shakes his head. “No. No, no. I was just...I got a new roommate. He’s…” Baekhyun flails his hands around, trying to find the right word to describe his relationship-not-relationship. “–Difficult.” That sort of explains it, he figures.  
“Ah, I see. He’s tired of you and your inept housekeeping abilities already?” she quips, waving down a waitress to take her order while Baekhyun scoffs (ignoring the statement because it’s technically true.)  
“Partially.”

 

“Ah. Well, I’m here to give you some papers.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a clear file folder, its contents chock full of documents that Baekhyun can’t bother fully comprehending before immediately asking for a pen and signing through them. The process is rather cut-and-dry for him, with him conceding to virtually anything she's requested. Whatever was his is now hers, anyway. Taeyeon frowns at his apathy and gently stops him.

 

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a day or two to sort through them?” She asks, concerned. Baekhyun makes a sound that affirms his complete lack of interest. “I don’t need to,” he says truthfully. “I trust you to discuss with your guys whatever’s best and we can sort through it as the meetings come around. I want this to be painless, Tae.” It might be a tad irresponsible, sure. He’s sure even his ex-wife can sense his distress. Baekhyun can’t find it in himself to care about the split as much as he should, and he really just needs to go home and mull over his newfound boy troubles–no offense to her.

 

She lets up and gives him a few moments to process the statements–that sounds about right, that’s expected, that’s fair, Jongdae would have a fit _for_ him if he saw _that_ request, but oh well– and finishes signing the last of them.

 

“How’ve you been?” she asks.

 

_My best friend’s MIA, this emo looking college kid kind of idolizes me, and I think I like a really hot 20 year old man-child who belts Disney classics at the ass crack of dawn to wake me up!_

 

“Horribly.” he summarizes quickly. Baekhyun doesn’t feel like dealing with pleasantries at the moment, but he powers through it for Taeyeon's sake. “I have a question.” He looks away from her imploring gaze, lest he lose the courage to follow through with his sudden impulse. The words come out more easily than he expects.

 

“What changed between us?” Baekhyun looks into her eyes, seeing a range of concerning emotions flicker through her expression before settling on reminiscence. He panics, suddenly realizing the implications of his question. “Wait!" He laughs nervously. "I’m not trying to win you back or anything, God no–not that you’re not worth winning back! You’re still great–I mean, not that I want to–I just–I’m just curious.” Baekhyun is fully aware that he's the poster child for shitty social situations. Sue him.

 

She waves off his concerns, a slight smile tugging at her lips. “You used to be so bold. You’d say whatever was on your mind, but somehow never managed to anger anyone because you were so _bright_. You had such huge ambitions–back when you couldn’t be bothered to study for that stupid Astronomy class because you were busy writing songs. Even after college, you were still so full of energy and life. Sure, we had our bad days, but we worked through them. You were open to anything, like–” Taeyeon suddenly starts giggling. “-That time Tiffany convinced you that–”

 

“I remember,” Baekhyun interjects, wincing. “Prefer to leave that in the past and never share that story again, thanks.”

 

Taeyeon laughs.

  
“You were kindhearted and rational–not that you aren’t anymore, but over time, you became less satisfied. You were hyper-critical and jaded. You were less willing to talk things out.” She frowns. “We fought more often than anything. I’d go to sleep wondering why our troubles seemed to stem from everywhere except finances–like most other couples, you know. It ran so much deeper than that, even though we tried to talk about it so many times. Sometimes I thought that it was because of me. As if somehow, I wasn’t good enough or communicative enough or happy enough for you. That’s why I kept lashing out at you emotionally–I’m sorry for that, by the way. But sometimes I wondered if it was because of your job, or because I was living through these stupid rose tinted glasses for six years.”

Taeyeon shrugs, warming her hands around her mug.

“I think it’s the latter. But that doesn’t mean you’re not still a decent guy.” Baekhyun nods. He's utterly unsurprised.

“It was only a matter of time before things fell apart. Frankly, I don’t know if I can keep trying with you. A relationship only lasts for as long as we’re both willing to fight for it, you know.”

 

Baekhyun parts with Taeyeon on amiable terms, promising to update her with his availability for the dry meetings he’s inevitably going to have to attend. He hurries out of the cafe with no destination in mind, the memories of just a few days prior plaguing his every thought.

 

________

_  
“You do realize that you didn’t put any laundry detergent inside the machine, right?”  
“Uhm.” Baekhyun curses under his breath. Not again. Damn it._

_  
“How many years have you been living alone?” Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. Baekhyun rolls his eyes, leaning against the dryer as his roommate sets about fixing his mistake._

_  
“I’ve been up to my ass in work for the past three years. Forgive me if I forget to put in some fucking soap sometimes.” he snaps, stepping to the side. Like a child, Baekhyun crosses his arms indignantly._

_  
Chanyeol chuckles, stopping the machine and pouring in the detergent in the correct compartment before looking at Baekhyun mockingly. “And I’m supposed to be the kid, right?” Baekhyun doesn’t respond, standing idly while Chanyeol resets the cycle._

_  
The clothes begin to spin again but neither party moves. Chanyeol looks down at Baekhyun with a soft expression and the man avoids his gaze altogether, suddenly hyper aware of Chanyeol's looming presence. Chanyeol breaks the silence first._

_  
“You look really cute wearing that shirt.”_

_  
“Wh-What?” Baekhyun looks down only to realize that he’s wearing the shirt from his last shopping trip with Chanyeol–the “God-awful” one._

_  
“Oh. See, I told you it was nice!”_

_  
“I’m surprised you can pull off what literally looks like something I wipe my ass with.”  
It’s a talent.”  
  
_

_“Sure is.”_

 

_Baekhyun is expecting a response–something witty, or perhaps something stupidly funny, like how Chanyeol always is–but instead, Chanyeol steps forward and unexpectedly plants a soft kiss on Baekhyun’s cheek. It’s barely noticeable–just a subtle brush of plush lips against him, but it renders him shocked._

_  
“Uhm….” he splutters, trying to articulate a response when his brain is working overtime. He fights the urge to return the kiss because that would serve only to be incredibly confusing for both parties, and he can’t deal with that again. He just can’t.  
“S-Sorry.” Chanyeol steps back as well, brushing his hands nervously against his sides. Baekhyun notices that he rambles when he’s nervous. Personally, Baekhyun finds it hard to breathe evenly enough to stay conscious, but to each their own._

_  
“I couldn’t help it. I mean, I could have helped it but I thought maybe that was ok…?” Chanyeol shakes his head. “You know what? Forget that. I'm sorry.” He clears his throat after a momentary pause. “I’m sorry.” Baekhyun is still unresponsive and Chanyeol feels compelled to shut down the conversation.._

_  
“Let’s forget that happened.” After a barely noticeable response from Baekhyun, Chanyeol walks out of the laundry room seemingly back to normal, asking him what he wants for dinner._

_Baekhyun gingerly touches his cheek and notices that it’s burning._

________

It’s almost comical, how such an innocent kiss can have this kind of an effect on him. Perhaps it’s his age and serious lack of action catching up to him, or maybe it’s _Chanyeol’s_ age–either way, Baekhyun can’t seem to stop thinking about it.

________

The office is one of the last places Baekhyun would choose to spend his weekend. The slate colored walls are painted with awards of excellence panels and other memorabilia Baekhyun can’t find himself to care about. Admittedly, he’d much rather be at home, watching bad movies with Chanyeol and throwing popcorn at the screen, even if it means having to pick up dozens of greasy kernels from the floor by the end of it.

 

His boss is standing next to his desk, probably waiting idly for Baekhyun to arrive so he can yell at him.  
“Baekhyun.” comes the curt greeting. He bows, fidgeting with his bag. “Good morning, sir.”  
Kim Junmyeon is perhaps the last man on earth Baekhyun wishes to anger. He’s all polite smiles and small talk until a hair in the office looks out of place. The perfectionist can only be described as a time bomb ticking perpetually at 0:01, and frankly, it’s terrifying. Baekhyun subconsciously tugs at his tie, laughing out of sheer nervousness.

 

“Do you have any idea when your project is launching?” Junmyeon adjusts the position of his watch, flicking his wrists before settling his gaze directly on Baekhyun. He gulps.  
“Yes, sir. Tomorrow, actually.” Baekhyun resists the urge to cry; he really doesn’t need yet another dilemma to deal with right now.

 

“Right.” Junmyeon, clad in all grey, blends into the wash of the desks and walls as he walks up to him.

 

“An issue arose with someone. You need to fix it.” An ultimatum is unnecessary when Baekhyun feels as though he could nearly faint right there. Junmyeon has voiced his liking for Baekhyun, but it certainly doesn’t exempt him from the near fatal intimidation that the man exudes when he’s angry.

 

“W-with who, sir?” Junmyeon has already slipped halfway out the door before he waves him off.  
“Turn on your computer, perhaps?”

_______

The intern they picked up out of sheer pity–a nephew of a higher-up just short of a few class credits– had said something misinformed, allowing the statement to snake through the media pipeline until countless unsolicited rumors about their highly anticipated launch were plastered everywhere.

  
Baekhyun is fuming by the time he throws open the door, stomping over to the poor student’s desk area. He looks up, glasses crooked and mouth agape at the seething man. Baekhyun thinks for a moment about what to say. He decides not to waste his time and curses under his breath, making his way back to the door. “You’re gone by tomorrow.” He says firmly, shutting the door closed.

 

From here, Baekhyun gets to work contacting major outlets and having the public relations team release formal statement after statement rectifying their careless error. Although the situation is unfortunate and it sounds inarguably selfish to say so, Baekhyun feels the knot in his chest loosen a little bit after having regained a bit of control again–he can say he’s almost grateful to have a mess other than his to clean up. It seems that anything unrelated to Chanyeol is still somehow manageable.

 

They end up launching about as smoothly as it can go with the given circumstances. Junmyeon nods toward him–an ultimate sign of forgiveness for the stoic man–leaving Baekhyun with little responsibility for the remaining day. He stumbles home and loosens his tie, flopping face first onto the bed. Picking up his phone, Baekhyun subconsciously open up a message to Chanyeol to share his relief, when he’s quickly reminded of the rift in their relationship–solely caused by him, no doubt.br />br /> Chanyeol is out of the question at this point, Jongdae is in the Maldives with his girlfriend on a much needed vacation, and texting Taeyeon would just be...weird. He mindlessly scrolls down his contacts list, before stopping thoughtfully on one number.  
Baekhyun bites his lips and hits the call button. It’s probably better than nothing.

 

“Sehun?”  
“Hey, midget.” Comes a raspy response. Baekhyun quickly glances at the clock.  
“Oh. Sorry for calling so late.” he mumbles.  
“Nah. What’d you need? You finally confess to Chanyeol?” he’s nonchalant, whereas Baekhyun almost doubles over.  
He splutters awkwardly. “Excuse me?”  
“So you _did_ do it?” Sehun sounds excited, as though he had been waiting for the affirmative for weeks. Which, he later reveals upon Baekhyun’s prodding, he has.

 

“It’s been blatantly obvious ever since Chanyeol told me about you,” he drawls.

  
“Honestly, from the way his eyes literally fucking sparkled when he talked about you–you’d have thought it was love at first sight.”  
"He doesn't sparkle when he talks about me.” Baekhyun fidgets awkwardly.

  
"You wouldn't know. You don't have to sit through it." Sehun grumbles. "The idiot doesn’t think you like him but your hard-on for his stupid self is glaringly obvious, Baek. I don’t really give a shit about what you two do but the least you can do is be a man and own up to your feelings.”

  
Baekhyun is stunned at Sehun’s sudden rant. Typically, anything that comes out of that kid’s mouth is absolutely ridiculous, but this–this is worth thinking about. He flips over, absently staring at the ceiling. “He’s a kid.” he murmurs, furrowing his brows at the thought. That’s not right. That’s far from the selfish desires tugging at his gut, but he wills it away.

  
“But is he? He’s only as young as you think he is. There’s nothing inherently wrong with liking a 20 year old man, you know. If anything, you’re the one who looks underage.”

  
“Hey!”

  
“Am I wrong?” Sehun is annoyingly cocky. And also not wrong.

  
“Well–no, but….Sehun, I’ve seen him cry over shitty anime movies.” He fights back a smile at the memory of Chanyeol blasting through tissues just weeks beforehand. “He’s too sweet for me.”

  
“Whatever. You’ll come to your senses soon enough. What did you call me for anyway?”  
“My project. It launched this morning.” Baekhyun sighs.

  
“I saw.”

  
“I wanted to tell you.”

  
“You mean, you wanted to tell Chanyeol, but remembered that you gave him the cold shoulder times a million.” Sehun corrects. Baekhyun clears this throat. “Why would you assume that? I mean it’s true,” he sighs, “But c'mon. Give me some credit.”

  
"I’ve come to really like you, Baek. You deserve a lot more than you think you do. But you can’t continue acting like a little dipshit. Like honestly, why even continue to live with him if you’re _so_ caught up over him?”  
Baekhyun sits up, upset at the accusation.  
“Jongdae–”

  
“–Stupidly convinced you to do it in the first place. Chanyeol had a home before you came into his life, in case that wasn't obvious."

Oh, how Baekhyun would love for Sehun to dial down the cheekiness.

"Jongdae's just shady .”

“What are you going on about?” Baekhyun asks. He admittedly hasn’t thought of that before. He’s just assumed that Chanyeol is another broke college student struggling with tuition and perpetual coffee addiction.

  
“You don't know why you're currently living with a gigantic idiot?” Sehun cackles. “Oh, wow. Jongdae just apparently thinks you’re going to die lonely with the amount of bitterness you have condensed in that tiny, angry body, so it was a perfect opportunity for you to just....make a friend. I’m sure he didn’t anticipate you actually falling for him, though.”

Baekhyun falls back on his bed, contemplating the possibility of Jongdae meddling in his personal affairs. The probability? Very high.  
“This is ridiculous. I can’t-stop trying to matchmake me!”  
“I am _not–_ I’m telling you the truth. You’re just in denial.” Sehun groans.  
“As much I appreciate you trying to be the Muses, I’m no Megara and I’m _not_ in denial.”  
Baekhyun huffs.  
Sehun clears his throat.

 

“Listen, Baek. I...have no idea what that means but I’m busy knitting a sweater right now–please, don’t ask why–” he adds, “And it requires a lot more attention that I’m currently giving it, mostly because I’m playing the...the _muses to your Megara_ , or whatever. But you need to stop being so damn prideful. Chanyeol’s my friend too, and I don’t like hearing him ask about you every day with such a disgusting look on his face. Now if you'll excuse me, my loop stitches need tending to.” Sehun says a brief goodbye and hangs up, leaving Baekhyun with a maelstrom of questions circulating in his head.

_Chanyeol asks about him?_

_______

_“Hey Chan-Oh.” Baekhyun stops in his tracks, bowing slightly when he notices that Chanyeol seems to be recording something. “I’ll just order myself.” Chanyeol shakes his head, gesturing for Baekhyun to sit by him.  
“Stay,” he presses a few keys until he seems satisfied with whatever is playing from his headphones. “Do you want to watch?”_

 

_Baekhyun nods slowly and takes a seat, observing Chanyeol at work. It’s quite impressive, how Chanyeol describes to him his compositions in ways that Baekhyun only vaguely remembers from old lectures and workshops. He’s full of life, eyes glinting with a breathtaking vibrancy as he discusses his favorite types of snares and how he wants to upgrade his microphone soon. His arms fly about as he gushes over a recent composition, and Baekhyun is enthralled with how happy Chanyeol seems with his work. If only he could have half of his enthusiasm._

 

_Suddenly, Chanyeol pauses, pulling Baekhyun from his reverie as well. “I want to match this to a set of lyrics,” he mumbles, looking at an old journal, pliant and dog-eared with years of use. “But I’m just not sure about any of this.”  
Baekhyun cranes his neck to skim over Chanyeol’s drafts, and perks up. “I–I have…” he instinctively says, then stops suddenly. “You have?”  
“Nothing.” He stammers. Stupid. He shouldn’t have said anything to begin with.  
“No, tell me.” Chanyeol seems firm, curious eyes trained on Baekhyun’s face. He eventually meets his roommate’s gaze, sighing in defeat because he can’t bring himself to deny Chanyeol of anything when he gives him that look._

 

_“Songs.” He admits. “I was just reminded of something I wrote a while ago.” Baekhyun’s songs are sacred, in a way. He stopped singing despite Mr. Kim’s objections because he no longer enjoyed the kind of attention he had been receiving. Or rather, he didn’t quite enjoy how it meshed so negatively with his personal life. Baekhyun looks at him and suddenly stands up, rushing to his room to grab a notebook and a small thumb drive, hurrying back before he can regret the decision._

 

_Baekhyun flips to a relatively recent passage and hands it to him, finding it difficult to even look at Chanyeol plugging in the thumb drive and listening attentively. He twiddles his thumbs while Chanyeol barely moves a muscle.  
It takes a few minutes–far too long for his antsy disposition–before Chanyeol speaks. His expression is rather blank. Baekhyun leans forward._

_“You’re the first person I’ve ever invited to see me work, you know.” He states while flipping through the pages. Baekhyun’s eyes widen and he coughs out a response. “What?”  
Chanyeol looks up, his eyes sincere and lips slightly upturned. “It’s important to me. It’s almost sacred in a way? Sure, people have listened to my early drafts, but they’ve never sat in here with me. I consider it my personal time and I take it very, very seriously.” He shuts the notebook and sets it on the table in front of him. “I can’t do that in front of just anybody.”_

 

_“T-Then why am I here?” Baekhyun knows the question is redundant, but it catches him off guard-thus, word vomit and social ineptness._

 

_Chanyeol hums, pretending for a moment to think deeply about it. “Because you’re not just anybody, Baek.” He says this matter-of-factly, as though it were a universal truth that Baekhyun’s just been in the dark about._

 

_“W–What?”_

 

_“You’re special. Do you need me to spell it out for you?"_

 

________

 

After a few weeks of giving Chanyeol the complete silent treatment, Baekhyun decides to confront the man once and for all. He lingers around the kitchen and stops when he sees a bouquet of flowers settled on top of the counter. Baekhyun cocks his head curiously, leaning in closer only to notice the familiar arrangement of baby’s breath and vibrantly hued orchids.

 

“What the–” Baekhyun mutters, when he hears shuffling coming from the entrance of the hallway. Baekhyun drops everything and rushes over to Chanyeol, who’s finally walked out.

“Excuse me?” Chanyeol steps to the side, confused when Baekhyun sidesteps along with him. Chanyeol navigates to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a sip from it, looking rather annoyed. Baekhyun would feel rather annoyed at himself too, to be honest.

  
“Do you have something to say?”

  
Baekhyun swallows nervously. “Yes.”

  
“Are you going to apologize for completely ignoring me?”

He sighs. “Yes, I–”

  
“Save it.” Chanyeol slams the fridge shut and tries to exit the kitchen before being stopped by a frantic midget.  
“Chanyeol, please.” The roommate spins around, raising an eyebrow. “I wonder how you're going to remediate the past three weeks that you didn’t even bother to say hi to me. You know how much time I wasted worrying about you? Of course, it must have only been my fault, right?” He licks his lips, refusing to meet Baekhyun’s gaze.

 

“Look. I know I made a mistake that day. I’m sorry for that. It was uncalled for. But you didn’t have to completely cut me off and make me feel like shit for it. A simple confrontation would have been a fine rejection.”

 

Baekhyun steps in now, voice steadily rising to match Chanyeol’s intensity. “I didn’t reject you!”

 

“If the silent treatment wasn’t enough proof–”

“I didn’t reject you and I didn’t want to,” he says with finality, stunning Chanyeol. “I’m sorry. I was confused and frankly, really angry at myself for doing that. For acting like that."  
Baekhyun takes in a sharp breath of air, trying not to let Chanyeol’s disappointed expression get the better of him.  
“I shouldn’t have ignored you. I should have told you how I felt, but instead, I was too busy trying to ignore my own feelings.”  
“And your feelings are?”

 

“I–I don’t….” Baekhyun’s mouth suddenly feels as though it’s been stuffed with cotton and he falls silent, leaving Chanyeol to decipher the rest of his sentence and effectively annoying the younger man.

“Why can you ever just say how you’re feeling?” Chanyeol asks softly. “Why do you have to feel like you have the upper hand all the time?” Baekhyun tries to squeeze in a counter, but Chanyeol beats him to it. “You can never stand the thought of being out of the loop. You’re a perfectionist with a short temper, aren’t you?”

 

“I’m attentive!” He defends.

 

“You’re controlling.” Chanyeol corrects. “But it’s more than just control with you. It’s a game of power play. You can’t stand not knowing _where_ you stand because then you lose power, and that’s why you’ll never be able to confront anything you do wrong. It’s why you’re so nonchalant about your divorce, no?”

 

Chanyeol’s initial irritation has deflated but his sharp words ring clearly in Baekhyun’s head, and he wants to argue–especially about the topic of his role in the divorce–but he can’t seem to get over the truth of the statement. Is it not merely a declaration of reality?  
Chanyeol sighs. “It’s fine, Baekhyun. Just go.”  
  
“No, it’s not fine.” _Now_ Baekhyun feels riled up and he stomps over to Chanyeol’s hunched figure. He nudges the man lightly to get his attention and forces his eyes (down) on him. “I like you,” he huffs, wondering if Chanyeol heard him the first time. “I mean, it’s crazy–”

  
“What.” Chanyeol cuts in.

  
“We-...Wait. Was that–?” Baekhyun rapidly shakes his head. “No, no, I’m not in the mood. Fuck, Chanyeol, I like you a lot. I don’t fucking know why and I’m working on it, but that’s how I feel. I really like hanging out with you. I think you’re really attractive when you wake up early just to make sure I don’t die of excessive sodium intake. I don’t really like your shitty taste in Disney classics, but I like you too much to care, and I–I just like you, ok? I like your red hair more than your brown even though it’s killing every follicle on your scalp. I hate vegetables but you make them alright. I like you.” Baekhyun resists the urge to slap his own hand over his mouth because that’s entirely too much information to condense into one confession.

  
  
Chanyeol seems unfazed.

 

“Working on what?”

 

“How not to feel like a blushing teenager every time you step near me.” Baekhyun intends for his tone to come across a lot more sarcastic than it actually sounds, but it sounds faint and unsure–he curses himself for that.

Chanyeol blinks. Then his lips start to curve upwards and he chuckles lightly. He takes one step forward, practically dwarfing the smaller roommate in his shadow.

  
A few moment of silence stretch into minutes and Baekhyun feels restless, while Chanyeol looks as though he wouldn’t mind staying like this all day. It’s maddening.

 

“So we’re ok?” Baekhyun asks timidly.

 

“We always were.” Chanyeol suddenly envelops Baekhyun into a hug, one which the shorter boy doesn’t mind indulging in for just a while longer as he wraps his arms around Chanyeol's back. He also won’t mind if it he never has to see Chanyeol upset again.

 

"I just needed you to apologize for once. The confession was nice, too.”

  
“It honestly would have been nicer without your stupid interjection.”

  
“It was fitting! What’s a confession without a little Disney?” Chanyeol chuckles. “Does this make you my Prince Charming now?” Baekhyun shoves Chanyeol away, cheeks burning.  
_______  
  
“Give me the remote.”

  
“No.”

  
“Please?”

  
“Uhm, no. Either put up and watch _Treasure Planet_ with me or shut up.”

  
Chanyeol huffs, blocking Baekhyun’s line of view with an exaggerated puppy face. “Please?”

  
Baekhyun shoves Chanyeol away unceremoniously. “The physical appearance of the please makes no difference to me.”

  
Chanyeol pauses and makes a face of disapproval. “Did you just quote _Gru_ at me?”

  
“Irrelevant. Shut up, it’s starting!” Baekhyun rolls his eyes, stuffing a handful of popcorn in his mouth as he speaks. “I cannot believe how uncultured you are. This is an absolute classic.”

  
“It’s why I have you to help me, no?”  
  
_______

  
It takes one movie night for the previously inseparable pair to act as though nothing had gone sour in the first place. However, there are now unofficial boundaries set in place regarding their friendship, something that Baekhyun is thankful for. He doesn’t think he can handle a relationship right now, especially when he’s only just realized how much he misses Chanyeol’s mere presence. For now, they’re just friends.

  
Of course, Baekhyun notices a caveat. Although Chanyeol is the one to subtly instate these rules, Chanyeol also seems to have drastically changed in recent days, making the rules that much harder to follow.  
  
  
He’s more bold.  
  
  
“Think fast!” Baekhyun looks over from his work only to be hit in the face with a sprinkle of flour. He splutters. “Park Chanyeol!”  
“Told you to think fast.” Chanyeol teases, squeezing the nape of Baekhyun’s neck playfully. Although all in good fun, Baekhyun jolts, quickly covering the sensitive area with his hand. “What the fuck?” he exclaims.  
  
  
He’s more cocky.  
  
  
“Are you actually going out on this fine Friday night like a normal university student?” Baekhyun asks from behind a lapful of documents. Chanyeol laughs. “Not really, though it’s not like I couldn’t if I wanted to. I’m just grabbing some food with Sehun.”

He coos at Baekhyun, who pouts at the lack of invitation. “You have to finish that first. No more staying up all night and disturbing me.”

  
“You’re the one blasting shitty rock music at ungodly hours, Park. Disturbing you, my ass.”

  
“Someday!” He jokes, promptly slamming the door shut before Baekhyun can retaliate. Baekhyun pauses, then groans, cursing for getting himself into that one.  
  
________

  
  
_resident asshole:_ u seem less bitchy nowadays bbh?? do u got a booty ho  
_Baekhyun:_ please stop texting me forever  
_resident asshole:_ so you DO got a booty ho??!!!

_______

 

The weather is quickly warming up, the weather somewhere between the cusp of snow and sun. Typically, Baekhyun barely takes note of it–he never has. There seem to be more children playing by the park near Amber’s, and more students wandering the streets after school near this time of year, but nothing too out of place besides that.

 

What Baekhyun does notice is that Chanyeol hates even mildly warm weather. This becomes glaringly apparent as his roommate literally starts to shed himself of his clothing, complaining about the muggy heat. It starts with thinner tees and loose tank tops. Then, Chanyeol starts foregoing shirts altogether. Baekhyun is stunned to come home one day to see Chanyeol working out in the living room, using the weights he usually keeps in his room.

  
“Hey, Baek!” He gently drops the weights onto the mat. “You’re back early.”

  
Baekhyun stammers. “Hi. Yes. Back early. That’s me! I’m here. I mean. Hi.” Stop talking Baek, fuck. 

  
“You hungry? I can make something for us real quick. I don’t want you to offer and potentially poison the two of us.” he laughs, eyes lighting up–a smile Baekhyun’s always had a weakness for. It seems even more attractive now that Chanyeol’s shirtless. What? He didn’t just think that.  
  
“Yes. Sure, that’s cool.” Baekhyun is inarticulate, and completely fixated on the way Chanyeol’s muscles flex as he stretches. For someone who visits the gym so often, Chanyeol doesn’t mention it often enough for Baekhyun to take notice. Speaking of the gym, he voices his curiosity (greatly restraining the urge to ask if he can touch his biceps.)

  
“Why aren’t you at the gym doing that?”

  
Chanyeol shrugs. “Pipe issues. It’s closed today.”

  
“O-Oh. Why not your room then…?” He’s being incredibly obvious but he can’t help wondering if Chanyeol knows what he’s doing to Baekhyun’s already fragile state.

  
“Too hot. Did you know your AC doesn’t work in my room?” He does. He’s just never had a reason to fix the damn thing until this very moment. Baekhyun pries his eyes away from the scene and forces a laugh. “Yeah. I’ll look into that.”

  
“No need. I quite like it here. It’s more peaceful, being outside like this.”

  
“Oh.” Baekhyun licks his dry lips and swiftly turns around. “I’ll just be here...working then. Don’t bother me with your music, asshole.” He hastily adds.

That night, Baekhyun tosses and turns in bed, wondering how much he’d regret it if he worked to release the tension building in the pit of his stomach. He promptly hops out of bed at the thought and rinses himself with cold water, later finding insufficient comfort from his layered blankets.  
  
_______

 

The first day, the pipes at the gym are being fixed. Then, Chanyeol claims that working in the living room is all around more convenient–less of a reason to go out, he jokes. Baekhyun now makes a beeline for his bedroom in the evening, preferring to work in the confines of any area away from Chanyeol and his occasional grunts from working a set too hard. The nights are no easier on Baekhyun’s conscience, where he has an ample amount of time to think about his roommate. The mere sight of his body has sent Baekhyun’s hormones into overdrive, almost as though he were back in college. He hasn’t done much of anything since the divorce, and with Chanyeol just on the other side of the hall, he doesn’t plan to succumb to his irrational desires anytime soon.

  
  
However, the more he thinks about Chanyeol’s sweatpants riding as low as ever, and his stomach–with hard edges and softly defined abs–the more frustrated he becomes. Just earlier that evening, Baekhyun had witnessed Chanyeol doing pushups, hair falling over his eyes as he finished his last set, and collapsing to the floor by the end of it. He turned around, surprised that Baekhyun was still standing behind him, and grins. “Sorry for the noise, I was just trying to get my mind off of class.”

  
Baekhyun curses at the memory. Hell to his initial plans–he kicks off the excess of blankets and shoves a hand down his boxers, biting his arm to muffle his sounds as he jerks it to the image of sweat running down Chanyeol’s body. He imagines what it would be like to roll under his roommate as he looks at Baekhyun with that same kind of expression. Baekhyun grunts as he comes with a groan and pants heavily before grabbing a few tissues from the nightstand. He quietly cleans up, later closing his eyes with a satisfied sigh.  
  
_______

 

After having jacked off to the image of his roommate and arguably, one of his closest friends–Baekhyun panics. He feels an intense urge to pull away from Chanyeol’s casual embraces and makes sure to leave at least a foot of distance between the two when they go out together. Chanyeol has definitely noticed, and grows more confused by the day. Although, Baekhyun personally thinks he has no reason to be–there’s absolutely no way Chanyeol isn’t trying to rile him up on purpose.  
  
  
It becomes a habit now; even the mere sight of Chanyeol–fully clothed and all–sends him into a sexually driven fit. Baekhyun is noticeably more antsy at work and continues to make a beeline for his room in the evenings; only now, he immediately unbuttons his work shirt, loosens his slacks, and works himself to completion with the thought of a certain roommate at the forefront of his mind.  
He considers telling Jongdae about his imminent problem, but thinks better of it.  
  
  
It’s an uncharacteristically hot day for the middle of spring. Baekhyun’s apartment falls victim to the humidity outside, although perhaps the heat isn’t the only thing getting to his head. Baekhyun is situated on his bed, moans rising dangerously in volume as he pumps himself fervently. Chanyeol is nowhere in sight and he’s been feeling particularly horny as of late, the empty apartment granting him a prime opportunity to relieve himself of his sexual tension.  
  
  
Baekhyun promptly flips over, fitting three fingers in his mouth to moisten them as he leads them to his hole. He hasn’t fingered himself in years for obvious reasons, but he welcomes the sensation, muffling a cry as he shoves in two digits at once. It’s less of him acting out a fantasy now, and it becomes much more focused on how his fingers feel between velvety soft walls, how it feels to be filled. He sloppily fingers himself like this, grinding his hips back in a desperate rhythm. It takes a certain amount of focus to be able to coordinate it, so Baekhyun barely notices the sound of the doorknob opening and a soft, “Baekhyun?” from the doorway.  
  
  
Baekhyun mewls sharply, hair matted to his forehead as he forces in a third finger and brushes past the spot he’s been looking for. “C-Chan–Ah!” He cried out, quickening the pace of his hand. “H-Hm, _God_ –” his eyes flutter shut and he forces his fingers deeper and wider, loud moans bubbling in his throat as he continues to hit his prostate. Pleasure builds up in the base of his stomach, and he shakily moves to jerk off, opening his eyes just in time to see Chanyeol leaning against the doorway as he cries out, coming with spurts of white splattering over his stomach.  
  
  
When Baekhyun comes to his senses–blurred vision slowly receding in small dots and breath finally running even–he jolts up, mortified. Covering his lower half with the sheets, he forces himself to look at Chanyeol.  
“What the fuck did I say about entering without permission?” he says angrily. Chanyeol looks apologetic. “I knocked several times but you weren’t answering. I heard something so I figured asking an innocent question about dinner wouldn’t be intrusive.” He shrugs. “I was wrong.”

  
  
He’s too calm, leaning against the door with a light smile. Baekhyun feels his cheeks color intensely. “So are you hungry?” He asks nonchalantly, sauntering to the kitchen as though he hasn’t just walked in on Baekhyun masturbating to him. “I’ll make something for the two of us.” Baekhyun splutters, unsure as to whether he should be thankful or horrified that Chanyeol is taking the situation so well. He clumsily throws on a pair of sweats and an oversized tee. After quickly washing his hands, he runs out of his room to get some answers.

 

“I–It’s not what it looks like.” He groans at how utterly untrue that is. “Fuck, I mean, it was what it looks like, but why–why do you seem so cool with it?” Chanyeol turns around, flour and eggs in tow.

 

“What do you think about chicken today?” he asks. It seems to take a moment for Chanyeol to process the question, and he blinks a few times.

“Oh. I mean, I wasn’t surprised.” he laughs.  
  
  
He walks up to Chanyeol and points a finger accusingly. “You can’t say that!” he exclaims, red faced.

  
“And why not?” Chanyeol looks at him curiously, setting down the ingredients in his hands to listen to his small, angry roommate.

  
“It makes the entire thing weird when you act like that.” The least Chanyeol can do is act less cocky about the entire situation, where he feels completely embarrassed.

  
“Like what? Weren’t you the one jerking it to the thought of me like minutes ago, Baek?” he chuckles.  
“Stop talking about it so comfortably!.” Chanyeol furrows his brows, confused.  
“I haven’t really done anything wrong?”  
  
  
He steps closer to Baekhyun, who instinctively moves back. “It’s you. You’re the one getting all worked up over it. But that’s what you do, right?” His tone is not accusing, nor is it harsh, but it makes Baekhyun nervous.  
“I do not!” He counters, squaring his shoulders. “I merely find it suspicious and unnerving that you’re so calm about it. I just expected you to react a bit differently and I’m surprised.” He crosses his arms.  
  
  
Chanyeol shakes his head. “No, listen to me. You always try to find some kind of an excuse to exert whatever power you think you have. It’s not how I react to anything, Baek. It’s literally just you.” He stares straight at Baekhyun, who tries to avoid his gaze.  
  
  
“What the hell are you going off about?” he mumbles.  
  
  
“You love having control of your situation Baek, but I’m tired of it.” He lets out a long sigh. “I’m tired of being ordered around for the most stupid things. You order me to feel a certain way. You order me to hide my interest in you. You tried to convince _me_ that you hated me for weeks, for God’s sake, just because you had an inkling of a crush on me! That was cold, first of all.” to which Baekhyun makes a small noise in agreement and looks at him apologetically. Is it too much to say that he’s still very much a child when it comes to his emotions?  
  
  
“What are you saying?” Heasks hesitantly.  
  
  
Chanyeol shrugs. “I want to try this thing–us. I’m asking if you really want to do something about your interest–that feeling’s very mutual by the way–but on one condition.”  
  
  
Chanyeol wants him as well–that much is obvious, apparently. However, he suddenly feels incredibly self conscious the closer Chanyeol sways toward him. “I do?” He’s not sure if that’s the correct response, but he’s gently coaxed against the wall right then, leaving him stunned at the sudden progression of events.  
“T-The condition being?” he intakes a shaky breath as Chanyeol runs his hands down his sides.  
  
  
Chanyeol grins, placing a chaste kiss on Baekhyun’s lips and wrapping his arms around his waist as he places soft kisses down the side of his neck. “You stop worrying so much.” Baekhyun groans sharply as Chanyeol bites down near his ear lobe. He feels heat creeping up his neck and he shivers and claws at Chanyeol’s back to try to tell him _not here–_  
Baekhyun, instead, doesn’t respond; he’s completely enraptured at the discretion of Chanyeol’s touch. He knows exactly where to place his hands to get Baekhyun arching into his touch, and exactly where to kiss and bite to get him crying out.  
  
  
“How are we going to do this?” Chanyeol suddenly pulls away, causing Baekhyun to whine and squirm. “What?” he asks breathlessly. “Why did you p-pull away?”  
  
Chanyeol prompts him to answer by nudging him.  
  
“I–I don’t know–”  
  
“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.” Chanyeol says, comforting words nestled between sweet kisses. It seems as though he’s taken a liking to smothering Baekhyun with a continuous stream of soft pecks and gentle caresses (not that he’s complaining.)  
Baekhyun smiles, slinking his hands around Chanyeol’s neck and pulling him closer until there’s not an inch of space between them. “You do it,” he grinds his hips up with a tortuous kind of control that he’s never exhibited before, only to rile Chanyeol up, who immediately bucks his hips in response.  
  
“Baekhyun–”.  
  
“ _Please_ do it.”  
  
“Baek–”  
  
“If I’m going to be under you, I’d like you to know that I want to be screaming.” He states matter-of-factly, silently urging Chanyeol to speed up. “Or else you’d be doing your job wrong. And we’re never going to do it again.” Chanyeol scrunches his nose cutely. Baekhyun fights the urge to coo–not that it’s easy for him to do so in his aroused state.  
“Well, I don’t want to hurt you either, and I’d honestly rather die than–”  
  
“Just do your thing, Yeol. I’ll let you know. The word is cucumber.” He sighs, not used to the extensive pre-game conversation, however endearing it may be. With that, Baekhyun is pulled into another sloppy kiss, all hands tangled in hair and nails creating crescent shapes on bare skin. Chanyeol kisses languidly while Baekhyun is much more frantic, silently pleading for something, anything, more.  
“If you don’t want something, just say so.” He cups Baekhyun’s cheek, just to make sure of his affirmation. Baekhyun nods mindlessly. “Okay, okay, just-take off your pants.”

  
Chanyeol continues to move slowly, caressing the soft curves of Baekhyun’s hips and whispering mindless compliments into his kisses that make Baekhyun smile and laugh. While Baekhyun would normally love the attention, he’s half hard and incredibly impatient, and tries to push Chanyeol away to unbuckle his pants. Chanyeol, clearly disapproving of the action. The red head grunts and grabs Baekhyun by the shoulder, forcing him down to his hands and knees. Baekhyun yelps in surprise, taking in his new position.  
  
  
“You told me to do my thing, so shouldn't we play by my rules?” He says it half-jokingly with an edge of condescension. This is a side of Chanyeol that Baekhyun hasn’t seen before, and he slowly comes to realize that he loves it. Perhaps he’s spoken too soon, but Baekhyun feels a wave of arousal wash over his body at the sudden dominance that laces Chanyeol’s words. He nods.  
Chanyeol suddenly drops to his knees, pushing Baekhyun into a rather indecent position as his ass is raised high in the air. Baekhyun sucks in a breath, waiting for whatever Chanyeol might do next, body squirming and need for something. “Scale of one to ten–”  
“Fuck, I don’t care. Just get along with it!” Baekhyun yells out, flattered but frustrated at Chanyeol’s constant questioning.  
  
  
“What do you need?” He then asks. In his haze, Baekhyun can barely comprehend the question but Chanyeol persists, halting all stimulation until Baekhyun responds.  
  
“What do you need?” he repeats.  
  
“I need-I-Ah–!” Baekhyun hisses, desire spreading to his fingertips as he paws at cold tiles. “Wow, fuck you,” he spits, despite his current state pressed against the floor.  
  
"Oh stop it, you. Just go along with it, come on." Chanyeol urges, mirth lacing his otherwise demanding voice. Baekhyun still manages to scoff.

Chanyeol could tease him more. Baekhyun is well aware of this as he relents, softly pleading for him to reconsider and pushing his hips back forcefully right against Chanyeol, who holds him steady. Chanyeol pulls him up and turns him around, settling the pliant body onto his lap; he smiles softly, tenderly pushing Baekhyun’s bangs from his face.  
“You’re really beautiful.” he states, moaning and then breaking into a small grin when Baekhyun holds onto him tightly and starts to grind against his hard member.

“Alright, hey, fuck me.” he pleads, albeit slightly irked at his lack of self control and how easily he had relinquished it to Chanyeol's rough hands and deep voice. “Fuck me, please.” Baekhyun grips onto Chanyeol’s arms, loving the way his muscles flex to hold Baekhyun upright. He can’t believe he’s begging Park Chanyeol, actual college nerd to do something, right here just outside his kitchen, but he can’t bring himself to care as Chanyeol shoves his fingers down his throat without a warning uttered, stunning him.

  
Baekhyun mewls and promptly coats his fingers in saliva, occasionally grazing his teeth against the rough pads, just to tease his roommate a bit. “Hold on.” Chanyeol circles Baekhyun’s entrance, smirking as the boy squirms from the stimulation.  
Baekhyun groans with a guttural sound as he’s filled with one digit. The initial stretch is always the worst. Chanyeol’s hands are calloused and much thicker than his own, the roughness of his fingertips rubbing gloriously against his walls. Baekhyun rocks back and forth, silently begging for more, more, anything more.

  
  
“Wow. You’re really stunning like this.”

  
“Thank you, it’s one of the only things I have going for me.” Baekhyun has no idea how he’s able to crack jokes when he’s practically keening with Chanyeol’s fingers fucking him so well, but he finds that there are a lot of surprises when it comes to doing anything with his roommate.

  
Chanyeol chuckles, continuing to stare at the beautiful man situated on his lap. Baekhyun looks at him with a half-lidded expression, grinding and begging to be taken deeper and _deeper, just like, ah–_ Chanyeol maintains the fast pace, his expression both lust-ridden and impatient.  
  
Baekhyun rides his fingers like that, two digits in until Chanyeol grazes past a pleasurable spot that has him crying out and begging for _one more, one more_ to enter him, sputtering incoherencies in such a filthy manner that the taller man can’t help removing his hand before he pushes Baekhyun over the edge. He ignores Baekhyun clenching in hopes for something to fill him up, and settles him onto the floor. Baekhyun thrashes his head around but Chanyeol gently holds him still, lifting his legs and allowing them to fall to the side. The shorter man scrambles to wrap his hands around his neck and squirms as Chanyeol moves to trail kisses down his stomach. Baekhyun shakes his head frantically, pulling Chanyeol up in a fit of hot pleas and spreading his legs slightly.  
  
“We can do that next time, come _on_ -”  
“Are you really going to beg me right now?” Chanyeol teases. He moves up, bracing his hands on either side of Baekhyun head to hold himself up as he lines himself up with Baekhyun’s entrance. “Because if you are, I want to record that.”

  
“ _Chanyeol–!”_

  
“What? It might never happen again. You're so prideful, you know. I just want to take my time,” he remarks, circling just around the rim. Baekhyun howls in frustration and lightly slaps his arm.

  
“Don’t tease me.”

  
“Too bad, I really wanted to prolong foreplay…” He holds back a smile upon seeing Baekhyun so desperate for him.  
“Come _on_ , you dopey looking asshole–” He flails side to side and tries to push himself against Chanyeol’s hardness but is stopped by a firm grip on his hips, squeezing hard enough that Baekhyun just knows he’s going to see a delicious bruise forming by tomorrow morning.  
“I really wanted to eat you out, too. What a shame.”

 

Baekhyun moans at the sound of that. He keeps it a mental note for next time, because the mere thought of Chanyeol eating him out is something he could get off to, with Chanyeol uttering filthy words and teasing him to the brink of insanity. He wants to say _yes, please let me come_ but he wants to be fucked and he wants it now, and he cries for it, loudly and without restraint.

  
“Fuck, c’mon–”he exclaims. His head is buzzing, his words slurred, and he wants Chanyeol so badly he barely notices when he dots kisses all around neck, murmuring words of endearment and praise, which frankly helps get him off even more. Baekhyun glances down at his leaking cock and glances up at the ceiling, trying to blink away tears of frustration.

  
“Please...” He murmurs, trying to force his hips down, whining when Chanyeol holds him back. “Isn’t this satisfying enough for your disgusting ego?” Chanyeol laughs, planting a fervent kiss on Baekhyun’s lips before finally, _finally_ entering him. It’s more than uncomfortable, trying to relax himself around Chanyeol.

  
“A-Are you–I can’t-” He hisses.

  
“ _Almost there–_ ” Chanyeol hums. Baekhyun fights back a yelp as he laughs.

  
“This is so not the time to be singing, Park. Fuck.” Baekhyun whimpers through gritted teeth, trying to get his mind off of the stretch. It burns, but there’s a promising inkling of pleasure that runs across his stomach. He pants.  
“Is it going to be stuck in your head while we do this? That’d be kind of awkward.” Chanyeol clicks his tongue as he bottoms out, groaning at the tightness. Baekhyun wails.  
  
The burn is incredible, salacious moans clawing at the back of his throat at the feeling of his ass being stretched so wide. His thick cock opens him up in such an indecent manner that Baekhyun can’t help feeling pleasure flood his entire body, his slick heat and tight walls welcoming the hard ridges of Chanyeol’s member.  
  
He runs blunt nails down Chanyeol’s back as he pushes deeper and deeper. Baekhyun feels impossibly fully, and he arches his back, thinking that he can probably come soon, if Chanyeol were to angle his hips just a bit higher.  
As Chanyeol starts moving–with no sense of urgency, no doubt, just to fuck with him–Baekhyun closes his eyes, trying desperately to keep himself grounded as Chanyeol grinds into him with maddening leisure.

It’s nice, feeling every movement that Chanyeol makes inside of him and pushing against the slow burn of his cock, but Baekhyun doesn’t want nice–he wants to cry.  
  
“F-faster please…” He croaks. “Harder, faster, please...please, I–”

  
“You’re so impatient.” Chanyeol clicks his tongue, rapidly starting a carelessly quick pace, fucking Baekhyun as he requests. It’s deliciously satisfying and Baekhyun is edging closer to absolute insanity, trying to contain his constant moans as Chanyeol pulls him closer. Then, he speaks.

  
“You remember that one time I took like three extra minutes to fast forward because I wanted to re-watch _Honor to Us All_ and you almost socked me in the face? “You’re just impatient. I guess it applies to sex, too.”  
  
Is it not the weather Chanyeol's talking about right now, or something equally as mundane to warrant his carefree tone? Baekhyun feels like dying. He couldn't have harbored a crush for anyone else, really.

“Chanyeol, shut the fuck up, fuck–” Baekhyun groans, more so in heated embarrassment–he's unsure of whether he should laugh or cry, and clenches his eyes shut.

  
“It’s beyond me how you’re somehow still really hot.” Baekhyun grits out, although perhaps his attraction to Chanyeol is currently aided by the way he’s fucking into him so well, hard enough that Baekhyun has to grip onto him for dear life just to avoid being thrown around like a rag doll.

 

“It’s one of the only things I have going for me.” Chanyeol repeats, laughing through a breathy moan.  
Baekhyun feels full, so full that he’s begging and babbling mindlessly and Chanyeol is cautious because he doesn't want to hurt Baekhyun, and so pulls out gently, but it causes Baekhyun to cry out and squirm in frustration.

“S-Stop!” he wails. “Don’t you _dare_ pull out now, you shithead–” he blabbers, tears already coating the corners of his eyes. The sight doesn't go unnoticed by his roommate, who chuckles and pulls Baekhyun into his lap, re-entering him with a smooth thrust and cooing upon seeing Baekhyun–eyes glistening and head lolling back.

  
“After literally all of this you still have energy to talk back?” Baekhyun shakes his head, tears threatening to spill over as Chanyeol cants his hips upward because he feels so much deeper this way, holding on for his life when Chanyeol hits his sweet spot over and over.

“You’re ridiculous. You’re so cute.”  
  
The sentiment unfortunately goes unappreciated; Baekhyun’s vision blurs for a moment and he slumps forward, almost knocking Chanyeol back, but it doesn’t matter, because he’s wailing, _”T-There!”_ so loudly that Chanyeol has half a mind to remind him that they’re barely five feet from the doorway.  
  
He begs and begs, arms flailing about as his back arches higher and higher. Baekhyun is being roughly reminded of how good it feels to be dominated and fucked and he loves it–with the thrill that comes from relinquishing control also comes an addictive edge that Baekhyun can't see himself getting over anytime soon. Chanyeol moves to suck more blooming patches of red across his collarbones and Baekhyun whines upon feeling white-hot pleasure wherever his teeth nip and his tongue licks. He feels the telltale signs of his rapidly approaching orgasm and he shakes his head, whining.  
  
“N-No–stop,” he pants, hands scrambling to tangle themselves in Chanyeol’s hair, pulling sharply when he thrusts faster, and deeper. “I’m–hm–come–gonna come–” He doesn’t want to come this early, it’s barely been half as long as he wants it to be and he wants to Chanyeol to fuck him in so many more ways than just this. He tries to hold it off but his concentration breaks off into a series of moans when Chanyeol thrusts once, twice, three times with such precise pressure on his prostate that all thoughts of holding off his orgasm dissipate immediately.

  
Chanyeol laughs. “Uh, That’s the goal, dude. Come on, you’re doing so well.”

  
Baekhyun nods absently, feeling a pleasant buzz wash over him upon hearing the praise. “Is it good?” Baekhyun is rambling at this point. He doesn't know what he's saying but he knows that it makes him impossibly more aroused, overstepping the line where pride takes a backseat to the deeply satisfying role of submission. It's uncomfortably unfamiliar, and Chanyeol is already staring at Baekhyun, enamored by how well the man seems to take it.

  
The brunet makes a content noise and grinds harder to match the pace of Chanyeol’s thrusts. “Is it good?” Baekhyun presses, unsatisfied with Chanyeol’s answer. “Am I good?” He whimpers. It’s far past the point of return, and Baekhyun knows that the closer he gets to coming, the less capable he is of forming eloquent thoughts.

  
  
“You’re so good.” His lips curl into a slight smile, finally getting the gist of what Baekhyun wants now, uttering compliment after compliment and watching as Baekhyun keens when he purrs, " _So good, right Baek?_ "  
“You’re amazing _babe_ , such a good boy for me, yeah? You want to be a good boy, right?”  
Baekhyun, in his hazy state of mind, manages to voice something that's been making him twitch in arousal. "Yeah,” he manages to moan, scratching down Chanyeol’s back before finally finding purchase on the toned arms that essentially started this entire mess. He pulls him closer and splutters, eyes clenched shut, “Call me that again, please.”  
  
Chanyeol lets out a breath, impressed with Baekhyun’s completely different persona when being fucked. “You know,” he says casually, tone completely out of place. “If I weren’t so turned on, this change of character would be so amusing.”  
  
“Ch-Chanyeol!”  
  
“But you’re still as demanding as ever. So good.” he says, easing back into his character. “Wait a little bit longer for me, please?” Baekhyun shakes his head frantically to indicate that _no,_ there is absolutely nothing that can hold his orgasm back now because Chanyeol’s hitting that spot inside of him so well and praising him so well that he can’t find it in himself to utter anything coherent anymore. “H-Hm!”  
“Is this what you thought of in your bedroom?” His tone is light but Baekhyun understands the implications of his question and he hesitantly nods.  
  
“Why don’t you answer me, hm? Can you do that? Can you answer me?” He presses Baekhyun further to the edge, leaning back slightly and making good work of Baekhyun’s compliant body.  
  
“Yes!” Baekhyun nods again and wails in three successive sounds, pleasure clawing at the based of his stomach and reaching a high that causes him to arch his back before he ducks down to bite Chanyeol’s neck, muffling his cries of ecstasy as he covers Chanyeol’s abdomen in lines of white. His tears run across Chanyeol’s collarbones but the man doesn’t seem to mind as he grip Baekhyun tighter, talking him through his orgasm.  
  
Baekhyun winces at the hypersensitivity and dives down to press rough kisses down Chanyeol’s neck as he continues riding out the peak of pleasure. “Come inside....” He stutters suddenly surprising even himself with the eagerness evident in his voice.  
  
“Uhm, you sure?” Baekhyun frankly has no energy to explain that yes, he wants Chanyeol to come inside of him and it’s always been his favorite part, which is why he’s agreed to be fucked in the first place; he aches to feel it, he needs to feel it, and so he tightens his grip around Chanyeol’s neck to shut him up instead (because Chanyeol talks too damn much anyway,) the taller man's pace quickening as he chases his own release. Baekhyun’s pleas are lecherous when sensitivity borders on pleasure as Chanyeol finally comes, filling Baekhyun up. He moans eagerly, thighs shaking as he captures Baekhyun's lips in a heated kiss. Baekhyun lightly grinds his hips to prolong the pleasure for the both of them.  
  
Chanyeol immediately sets about smothering Baekhyun with sweet kisses, chuckling against his throat, “You are so amazing. I never took you to be that kind of moaner, though.”  
He closes his eyes, cheeks burning as the reality of his desperate actions catches up to him. Nonetheless, he tightens his grip around Chanyeol’s neck, relishing in the attention.  
“It’s been years since I’ve done that.” He tries to argue in his exhausted state. “Forgive me for being a bit excited. And why do you talk so damn much?”  
  
Chanyeol pulls away and looks at him, his expression curving into a stunning grin that completely juxtaposes the fact that he’s still buried inside Baekhyun–a filthy reminder of what they’ve just done. The man is taken aback at how quickly Chanyeol breaks character, the dominant streak in him quickly lending its place to his signature puppy-like excitement.  
  
“Dunno. It's fun with you. But you know, I’ve never done that before.” He says, startling Baekhyun as his sated smile quickly morphs into panic. “W-What?” He asks, breath still uneven, vision still a bit unfocused from the incredible fuck. He couldn't have possibly taken Chanyeol’s virginity just now, could he? The sheer burden of having potentially pressured Chanyeol into something he wasn’t ready for renders him speechless and he stutters a series of half-apologies before Chanyeol snickers and interrupts him with a flurry of kisses.  
  
“I didn’t mean _sex_ ,” He stifles a laugh. “I meant...that. Acting like that.” he grazes Baekhyun’s hips with a sensual touch. “You just really wanted it, so….”  
“Well, I’m open. And versatile,” He points out matter-of-factly, relieved. “Do you like it?”  
“Oh, definitely. You don’t know how good it feels having someone as stubborn as you actually obeying for once.” He huffs, hitting Chanyeol lightly.

“It’s embarrassing when you put it like that.” Chanyeol cocks an eyebrow.

“What, and screaming my name directly in front of our door isn’t?”

“It’s not like anyone was there–” Baekhyun is cut off by an unrealistically timely series of knocks on the door. He looks up, mortified. “There’s no fucking way–” Baekhyun splutters, eyes wide open.  
  
“Hey, midget! I’ve been knocking for the past twenty minutes. You could at least fuck in the bedroom where I _can’t_ hear every dirty detail from the hallways!” The telltale, nasally lilt of Sehun’s voice rings clearly throughout the room, causing Baekhyun to wail. Chanyeol stifles a laugh. “He’s got impeccable timing.” He observes, shaking his head and gesturing downward, still stretching Baekhyun’s ass.  
Baekhyun groans and hides his face into the crook of Chanyeol’s neck. This cannot be happening.  
  
________  
  
Baekhyun wakes up, tucked into his bed with a sharp pain running down his lower back. He opens his eyes, straining against the light that floods into his view and snuggles into the warm body situated next to him.  
"Good morning.” Chanyeol’s voice is thick with fatigue as he stretches his limbs, almost crushing Baekhyun in a tight embrace. He doesn’t mind, save for his aching muscles.  
“You ruined me.” he mumbles. “You’re so lucky I don’t have work today.” Chanyeol chuckles, pulling the man closer to him as his eyes finally open. Baekhyun takes a moment to admire the man in his sleepy form; his hair is mussed, sticking up in every which way (no thanks to Baekhyun’s eager grip from the night before.) His lips are chapped but still manage to curl into a smile that tugs at Baekhyun’s heart. Having shared a bed with Chanyeol for the first time, he figures this is as good a time as ever to ask.

“Yeol, do you...walk into my room when I'm asleep?” He blurts out with no semblance of tact. Perhaps he could have eased into the thought.  
Chanyeol shifts his eyes back and forth, unsure of how to respond.  
“Uhm, you make it sound creepy.” He says.  
“Sorry. I meant like...why?” Baekhyun rolls his eyes. There’s literally no way to _not_ make that sound creepy, but he tries his best.

“You make a lot of weird noises when you sleep. Like you’re in pain or something. I checked it out one day and I found out that you always kick the covers to the foot of the bed.” Chanyeol responds, absently running his hands through Baekhyun’s hair. “You complain that you’re cold in the morning, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to check up on you sometimes and pull up the covers.”

Baekhyun feels his heart aching. He holds back a sigh and tries not to succumb to the full extent of his emotions, lest he pounce on Chanyeol in his exhausted state; he can only take so much in one morning. Instead, he leans up to kiss his boyfriend in a most sincere form of thanks. “You’re too sweet,” he whines. “I don’t deserve it.”

“I really can’t argue with that. You hungry?” Chanyeol grins. Baekhyun kicks him through the blankets for ruining the moment with his lack of modesty, but eventuallt nods. “Very.”

“Let’s grab a bite to eat with the guys.” Chanyeol, in his post-sex and morning laziness, throws his legs over Baekhyun, rolling clumsily off the bed and taking the sheets with him. Baekhyun winces from the secondhand embarrassment. “You’re dumb.”

“And you’re beautiful. My little Prince Charming.” Chanyeol smiles and bends down to kiss him once more.  
  
_______  
  
“Holy shit.” Jongdae exclaims as Baekhyun enters walking hand in hand with Chanyeol, sliding into the booth and sending a half-hearted greeting to him and a suddenly interested Sehun. The blonde boy leans forward, gaping at the hickeys that run from Baekhyun’s neck to collarbone, barely covered with a thin layer of foundation.

“That’s....my nephew.” Jongdae gapes, finally taking in the situation for what it is.

“Holy shit, Baekhyun, you fucked my nephew!”

Baekhyun shrugs. “Weren’t you the one always nagging me to get laid?” Jongdae whines.

“You really tried so hard to hid your indecency, didn’t you?” Sehun asks sarcastically, reaching out a tentative hand as though asking Baekhyun for permission to touch them. Baekhyun looks down at his collarbones–tender and purpling–and humors his interest, pretending to glare at Chanyeol, who’s conveniently stayed out of the conversation thus far.

“They were too dark to cover up.”

“Don’t look at me,” Chanyeol scoffs pulling him closer and ruffling his hair, to which Baekhyun pulls away and protests, _“I’m practically 10 years older than you, stop–”_

“You’re the one who asked for them the third time. Don’t complain about them now.”  
“Third time?” Jongdae gags, stealing a glance at Sehun in hopes of finding solidarity for being stuck in the middle of such a disgusting public display–but the man seems positively entranced.

“D-does it hurt?” Sehun mutters. Baekhyun breaks himself away from Chanyeol’s suffocating embrace and shrugs. “Only if I touch it a lot.” he responds, quickly catching onto Sehun’s intrigued expression.

“Why, does it turn you on?”

“Yeah.” he responds bluntly.

“O-Oh.”

  
  
“I mean, look at you! I can only imagine–well I mean, I _was_ there, but–” a statement that causes Jongdae to splutter, _“You were there–?!”_ “–You look like you got mauled. Wow. Just. Wow. I’ve got to try that out sometime…”

Chanyeol throws his head back and laughs. “That’s nothing. You should see his stomach.”  
“Piss _off_ , Yeol,” Baekhyun scolds, eyes completely giving away his false concern as they gleam with amusement. He gestures to a miserable looking Jongdae, holding back a laugh.

“Look, you’re going to make him faint!”

“It’s not my fault you two are animals, what the fuck! He’s my nephew, Baek.”

“Hm. A damn hot one, though. Who’s fault is that?”  
  
_______

  
It’s been a few weeks since the “honeymoon period” of their relationship has started, temporarily halted only by Chanyeol’s impending finals. Baekhyun is currently figuring out a decent time to confront him about the floral arrangements that have been popping up around the apartment for ages–since around the time of his self-perpetuated fight with the student. He briefly thinks that the domesticity of the relationship has perhaps settled in too quickly for him to be discussing room decor with his boyfriend, but he’s not complaining.

  
“Chanyeol.” He rolls over one morning where both of them are awake earlier than usual. Chanyeol looks at him, a subtle smile gracing his lips. “Mhm?” Baekhyun has a secret weakness for Chanyeol sprawled across the bed like this–unkempt bed hair and raspy voice still laced with sleep. He resists the urge to kiss him silly.

  
“As much as I love your consistency, why the hell are you always buying flowers?” He shifts, snuggling closer to Chanyeol. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love them and all, but don’t you think it’s a hassle to upkeep them?"

  
“I dunno,” he says, pulling Baekhyun’s body closer to his. “You said you like them, so I buy them.”

  
As though it were the simplest thing.

  
“Doesn’t that decrease their value? Seeing them all the time?”

  
“Does my value decrease the more you look at _me_?” Chanyeol teases, poking Baekhyun in the stomach. “It’s more about enjoying them as they last. What’s the point in saving them just for special occasions? If you love something, then why not look at it _every_ day?”  
Baekhyun smiles. “Well then, what happens on special occasions?”

“Flowers are like, so fucking expensive. That’s why you buy them on days where no one give half a shit about them.”

He's expecting something heartfelt, but he should have known who he fell in love with.

“Oh my god. You ruin every sweet moment, don’t you?” He lightly shoves Chanyeol away, eyes betraying his disapproval as they twinkle with endearment. Baekhyun laughs and gently runs a hand through his boyfriend’s hair.

  
“Yeol...thanks.”

  
It’s more than the flowers and it’s more than even the sentiment itself, and Chanyeol seems to understand that as he presses a kiss to Baekhyun’s forehead, urging him to go back to sleep.  
  
________

  
“Park Chanyeol!” Baekhyun shrieks into the phone, ignoring the stunned expressions of his coworkers as they walk by. He’s in his office, struggling to navigate to his chair because of the sheer volume of bouquets surrounding the area. They’re beautiful–breathtaking even–with a wide array of vivid oranges and yellows dotting his workspace, all tucked neatly between ivory sprigs of baby’s breath. If he were situated anywhere else, he’d be elated.

“How the hell did you get permission to do this?” Baekhyun’s jaw drops and he lets out a shaky breath. “You didn’t, did you? You didn’t tell Junmyeon, _did_ you? If he sees this, he’s going to freak, what the fuck, I’m going to strangle you–!”

  
“Relax Baek,” Chanyeol laughs, voice muffled over the phone but amused nonetheless. “I asked. Or, Kyungsoo asked since he knows him and all. Happy Birthday, love.” He croons into the phone. Baekhyun groans, leaning against the wall. “Is this some sort of a prank?” He feels a migraine coming on, and it’s not a friend he wishes to revisit.

  
“Actually, yes. Your real present is at home with me. I just thought it’d be kind of funny, hearing you get all flustered like that.”

Baekhyun lets out a breath. “You. Are. A. Child.” He punctuates every word with a sharp grit in his tone.

“I love you, my adorable, angry little Prince Charming. Listen, you’ll forget all about it when you come home today. You’re going to love your gift.”

Baekhyun eventually sighs, relenting, because he can never actually be angry at Chanyeol, especially when he uses the stupid nickname he's adopted.

“Okay. I better.”

 

 

  
Baekhyun arrives home later that evening to a face full of balloons, loud cheers, and a home-baked cake sitting on the countertop. His friends–some he hadn’t kept in touch with in months, and even Kyungsoo, whom he had quickly warmed up to after their initial meeting–smother him with hugs, greeting him with birthday wishes and presents. Baekhyun grins gleefully, graciously accepting every single gift and making his way through the crowd until he reaches Chanyeol, who kisses him lovingly.

“Happy birthday.”

“I’m old.” He complains, snuggling closer to his boyfriend. “There’s nothing happy about being one day closer to death’s embrace while you prance around in your early 20’s.”

“Not even this?” Chanyeol’s grin is bright as he reaches into his pocket and brings out a sleek, velvet box. He hands it to Baekhyun, who frowns despite feeling touched. “Yeol. What the fuck. You didn’t have to get me anything.” His boyfriend has gotten used to his brash way of expressing sentiment, and laughs.

  
“Of course I did. It’s your _birthday_.”

  
“Well, I ignored you for a good portion of yours, so I feel bad.” Baekhyun counters.

  
“You made up for it really nicely in the following weeks with your ass, so shut up and open the box.” Chanyeol says, encouraging him to unlatch the clasp.  
  
“What about that one time with yours?” Baekhyun teases.

“Oh, especially that time, Byun. Come on, stop stalling. Open it!”

The bracelet is nothing complex, but it takes his breath away nonetheless. It sits elegantly between plush velvet, a thin, silver band joined together by chain. He smiles, gingerly holding the piece of jewelry in his hand and flipping it over, noticing a line of engraved words running along the inside of the band.

He glances at it and lets out a small squeal, looking up at Chanyeol. He pounces on the taller man, kissing him anywhere he can reach in his elated state.

“Oh my god. You make more stupid references than I do. It’s disgusting.” He says in-between laughs. “I learned it from you. Were you expecting anything less?”  
  
“Get a room, you two!” Sehun hollers over a full mouth of frosting from the kitchen, frowning when Jongdae swats his hand away from the cake. They pay neither Sehun nor the rest of the mingling guests any mind, stumbling to the couch in their frenzy. Jongdae wails. “Can somebody stop those two before they actually make love in front of me? I feel faint.”  
  
_For my Prince Charming. I love you. Chanyeol._

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @perpencircular for baekyeol headcanons  
> AFF: ColorMeB


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